I Will Not Bow
by Razer Athane
Summary: We want to fall, so we'll be free. Not to our deaths, but to our redemption. Because we can start again, then. My darling believer… what hope have you now? -COMPLETE-
1. I Will Not Bow

Author's Note: GASP?! Its Razer, back with another multichap fic! This one's short though. And I just could NOT wait to get it out. I won't update this again until its finished, and at the end of the whole story, you will understand why :P

Disclaimer: I do not own the Tekken characters involved in this story. No further disclaimers will be put into the story, as it ruins the story's pace.  


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**I WILL NOT BOW**

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"Rise."

I'm forcibly pulled to my feet. Moaning in pain, I'm shoved forward by the two of his guards, his _soldiers,_ dragged by the chain around my throat. My arms are bound behind my back, and I've tugged at them throughout the night, trying to slip my hands through, but I can't. I'm trapped. He knows it, I know it, they know it; and we all know I can't escape. We all know I've tried, if the marks on my wrists are anything to go by.

He smirks at me, watching as I'm pushed by. It's not like I can move on my own regardless. My body is so beaten and broken that it's a miracle that I'm standing at all, in my opinion. His arctic, bitter eyes follow me, and he walks behind me, shoving me along as well, though it is for his enjoyment, not to actually have me moving forward. I can feel his hatred and anger radiate from him, and I smirk uncontrollably, because I'm the one who fuelled it to such a state; and I'm glad, because I know I've damaged him.

His left arm still isn't right, particularly from where I dislocated his elbow. He shoves me again, and I trip over my own feet due to the harshness of the move. Jin laughs, eyes narrowing. Taking the single chain from the soldier's before him, he pulls up hurriedly and vehemently, causing me to choke, cough and stand again, or be killed by the strength of the pull. Breathing in shakily, he pulls forward again, making me move, and throws the chain at his two soldiers, commanding them to walk once again.

I close my eyes and allow myself to be led like a lamb. I've been broken, in body and mind. I cannot fight him anymore. I cannot fight for the freedom of the people. I cannot fight for the freedom of myself. I cannot fight for the freedom of my friends. I cannot fight for the freedom of _you. _The fallen have no freedom, for they are already free.

The sunlight is blinding, as I'm led out of the dungeon and onto a large platform. I open my eyes again and take in the sight before me. It is a large, light grey platform, in an oval shape; and it hovers atop a large tower. There are soldiers lining the door we just came through, and I can hear helicopters overhead, a splash of dull colour streaking through the orange sky. There's a light wind, and it ignites chills beneath my tattered and bloody clothes.

I see cameras at the edge of his large podium, set on me, because I'm the celebrity here. I'm their target, I'm the big 'thing' that's going to happen in a few minutes. I'm what the world gets to see, involuntarily. My eyes narrow, and I turn my head to the left, seeing the skyline of Tokyo. The sun is slowly dipping behind them, and it peeks out from the taller buildings, streaking my face an eerie orange, blinding me as I'm forced forward more so, almost at the edge of the podium.

He's gripping me by my hair, and he's thrown me onto the of the podium floor, the world stage. I look up, scanning the audience. His legions of fans, those who are terrified to challenge him, stare up at me with open eyes. Some are holding their breaths, others are pointing at me and laughing at what will happen, but I care not, because I know I've done all I can, and I know that I almost had it. I _almost _had it. I _almost _took him down. _Almost almost almost – _but I never _did._

But it doesn't make the pain any less real.

"Look before you," Jin commands with an arrogant smirk, "Look at all of these people who believed you could do it. You set about trying to stop me, with your little band of _friends, _and not only did you end up killing them and yourself, but you have doomed _everyone_ _else_ _here_. What do you have to say for yourself, Hwoarang?" He squats down to my level, still pointing out at them, looking amongst them, before grabbing me by the jaw and forcing my head to look at him. His twisted, sinister smirk is still there, and I want nothing more than to wipe it off of him, "Do you feel guilty that you've condemned them? That you've _failed _them?"

I hiss, unable to get a reply out of me, and he kicks me viciously in the stomach, causing me to crumble. I feel like throwing up, but there's nothing in my stomach to dispose of. I already did that yesterday, when he hurt me more so. Unable to do anything else, I close my eyes and think of you, because in my hour of need, even though you're not here, you still provide the strongest form of comfort for me; and for that I'm grateful. And for a moment, I feel like you're holding me again. That you're alive. I can feel my eyes sting, and I do nothing to hinder the tears that'll come soon, because there's no point anymore. My pride is tattered and torn, and it is going to die with me.

Jin laughs, standing to his full height, and looks out amongst the crowd and the cameras all around us. His booming voice carries across the desolate area, waking the morbid masses of motionless men, who are like zombies, "People of the world… Before you I stand to set an example. Meet Hwoarang, a Korean man who thought he could rise and overthrow me. Who thought he could end my reign and bring peace to you all again," he turns, glaring at me, hastily shoving me over by the shoulder, "Who thought he was strong enough to defeat me."

They're silent.

"There were others with him," he continues, "and they have all met the same fate. Whether they were murdered, killed themselves or died by accident, they all met the same fate. They all fell to their knees, blood gurgling in their mouths, as they gasped for air, desperate for one last breath, one last smell, and one last touch. And they did not get it."

I'm shaking, because I can see you when I close my eyes, like before you died. Your eyes are wide open, your mouth is parted, and your entire body is shaking because _I'm _shaking you; because in my arms, you're shaking. I said to you that the image would haunt me for the rest of my days, and it has… and as it stands now, my days – minutes – _seconds _are numbered. But I take comfort in the fact that I'll be with you again, like I promised. Soon, soon.

"They tried to destroy the Mishima Empire from the inside, with a close accomplice of mine," he turns away, glaring down at me, "And it did not work. They tried to destroy the Mishima Empire by crippling its allies, and it did not work. They tried to destroy the Mishima Empire by attacking it directly, and it still. Did. Not. _Work!_" he kicked me again, and I growl, in pain. Satisfied, he turns back to his audience, "He has failed you! He failed to bring down bring down _your King! _He failed to bring down _the monster… _And if he cannot do it, then _no one can. _The Zaibatsu is an impenetrable fortress… and inside, I will rule you all _forever._"

I feel hands on my shoulders, pushing me down, making sure I cannot escape. He's pushed me into a bowed position, and I fight it, even though I know it won't do anything to help me, let alone delay my death. I open my amber eyes, and they flick towards the Japanese man, who opens one side of his leather, black trench coat, pulling out a hand gun from his hip. It sits in his smooth hand, and he runs his other hand along the metal barrel in an affectionate manner.

He takes a step forward, his finger on the trigger, and points the gun at me. At this range, he cannot miss, "Anything left to say?"

I hesitate, because I have so many thoughts and things I want to say, and I don't know which one to pick or how to say them. I want to declare my love for you, and how beautiful you are; I want to declare my hate for him, and how malevolent he is. I want to declare my care for my friends, and how it shouldn't have been you to die; and I want to declare that I know I did the right thing, even if it took me down this path, to an inevitable dead end. I want to inspire more people to rise and challenge him. Even after I die… I want to help. I have to stop him, even if it takes my death to make it happen.

I'm pushed down again. Enraged, I find inner strength and throw them back, so that I am sitting a little taller. The tears are falling now, because all I can think about is you. They're happy tears, because I'll be with you so soon. I can feel your soft skin brush against mine. I can smell you. I can smell your strawberry shampoo, your minty breath – the scent of bread, reminding me of _home_…

I look into the camera that is before me, my eyes narrowed. In the lense, I see Jin, awaiting my answer on my left side. I see the two soldiers still holding me down, trying to get me into a bowed position, as though to endorse my surrender. I swear I faintly see Baek, his arms folded across his chest, waiting for me. I swear I see you standing by his side, waving your hand, beckoning me to come to you. And I will.

"Yeah," I say, glancing at him for a moment.

"Then say it," he spits. I hear the gun click, ready to fire.

I look back into the camera, feeling that rebel smirk flower upon my face one last time. My last message of hope. My final words.

_I'm coming._

"I will _not _bow."

He fires, and I feel the world shatter around me.


	2. I Will Not Break

When he walks in again to check up on me, I'm sobbing your name, grieving.

"Crybaby," Jin hisses, reaching in and grabbing me from my position on the ground. I'm chained to the wall by my throat, and he knows by pulling like this, its dealing more pain. I'm choking on the metal, and he's chuckling at this, because he likes to see me suffer. I'd reach up and pry him off, but my hands are bound by ropes behind my back.

Using the only available assets I have, I reach through and kick him in the crotch, causing him to release me and stagger back. I crawl backwards, away from the prison bars and closer to the stone wall, where he can't get me. I breathe in the air that he'd stolen from me, and smirk at his current pain. I'm still pretty damn proud of myself for fucking up his shoulder when we fought, but I'd love nothing more than to kill him.

He eventually regains his composure, and does something I didn't think he could in his human form. He hunches up for a moment with curled fingers, and then leans back, eyes wide and hand out of the way of his face. From the direct centre of his forehead, a red _laser beam _bursts through one of the gaps in the metal bars, and it sears my right arm. I choke on the breath I'm taking and cry out in pain, and the volume of my cry increases as he slowly turns his head, making the incision longer.

Then it stops, and I silently breathe out in relief. Looking to my right, I can see flesh parted and blood trickle down in steady streams, becoming drops on the stone floor. I move sloppily and tiredly from my position against the wall and settle into the nearest corner. If I sit here, away from the monster… I'll be safe until he comes to kill me. And I know he'll do that.

Kazama smirks. I hear extra footsteps, and looking up, there's four guards standing next to him. He unlocks the door and allows three of them in, thereafter slamming it shut. I would've tried to get out of here, but, this stupid chain around my throat…

He then speaks, "So Hwoarang, tell me… How many were in your troupe? Twenty? Thirty?"

I say nothing.

He chuckles again and snaps his fingers.

I look up to the helmeted Tekken Force soldiers. They withdraw wooden batons from their sides and immediately begin to club me with them. Each strike is strong and painful, and they pick my weakest points – the recent cut, my sides, my face, my neck, my head… I'm biting my lip so hard, I don't want to make a sound and I don't want to be weak in the face of the enemy. No matter what he throws at me and how many times he hits me, I'm not gonna break.

I'm too strong for him.

I wasn't strong enough for you.

As one of the batons actually breaks from hitting me so hard, I feel something give in the laser-struck arm, like a bone. The pain escalates and throbs and aches, and my lip feels so sore. The other soldier goes to raise his own baton, but he's stopped by the other one, "Hey, check this shit out, I actually broke the baton! I'm sure I've broken his arm…"

I'm staring at the wall beside me blankly, ignoring the voices, but that doesn't mean that they're totally dull to me. I hear Jin tell them to stop jabbering and get me to talk. They both throw their batons away, broken or not, and grab knives that they'd concealed along the sides of their boots. Jin speaks to me again, "You will want to tell me how many of you there were… I can count two off the top of my head…" he smirks, leaning against the wall and looking at me from the opposite corner of the larger room, "You, and her."

I say nothing.

He chuckles again and snaps his fingers.

The knives slice through what they can see of my body, and even through some of my clothes. One of them goes diagonally up and left, going from my hip and to my shoulder. I'm shaking from the pain, and closing my eyes, I reason with myself that there's no real harm in saying how many of us there were. Maybe it'll make him feel worse, knowing that such a small number dented his forces. I grit out, "Seven from the raid on the laboratory."

"Ohhh," he taunts. The spill of my information stops any extra pain, and I'm thankful, but I know that it's only temporary. He's still looking at me with those cruel, ugly, hate-filled eyes, "Seven, lucky seven… Just goes to show that seven is not really as lucky as they say, hmm?" he narrows his eyes, smirking, "And I know there were many more beforehand… But only the strongest survived… Yet I've got the weakest in my prison. The _stupidest _one, the one who actually got caught."

"I'm not weak," I growl.

"Do not delude yourself," he chimes monotonously, thereafter giving emotion and life into his voice, "_You_ are weaker than those who fell before you. _You_ are the one who got caught, _you_ are the one giving information, _you _are the one putting your other comrades at risk, and _you_ are the one whose torture has only just begun…" he pushes himself off the wall and peers in through the bars again, "State the names of those who are still alive."

I say nothing, but I do smirk to myself and chuckle once.

His gaze darkens, and he snaps his fingers.

The knives are back at it again. One of the soldiers pushes me forward, going to go and cut my back to pieces. The other Tekken Force soldier grabs my left hand and impales the knife straight through it. My amber eyes widen dramatically, and my face contorts into an expression of pain. I scream. Tears start to blur my vision. The soldier twists the knife around, making everything worse, and then pulls it all the way back out. The knife went _through _my hand.

"I can see you starting to break."

I feel my stomach twist.

They throw the knives to the side and ready their fists. I squint, seeing that they have brass knuckles on. I dunno how I didn't notice before, but I know the strikes will hurt. They're waiting for Kazama's command, and he asks again, "State the names of those who are still alive."

"Hwoarang," I snit.

His eyes narrow and he snaps his fingers, "Stupid boy."

The fists don't hurt as much as the knives do, but I think that's because my body's starting to become numb towards the pain. They're deliberately punching everywhere that has a cut or a bruise, with particular emphasis on the laser incision and my left hand. One of them digs his fist into the larger cut across my torso, twisting the metal, hoping to make it larger. It hurts. This all hurts, "Why are you punishing me for telling the truth, Kazama?"

"Because I _feel _like it," Jin hisses, opening the door and sliding into the cell. He stands behind his two guards and crosses his arms, watching the site before him, listening to me hiss in pain, "I feel like watching the weeping, weak, _worthless _freedom fighter cry in pain…" he snaps his fingers, and they stop. They move out of the way, and I'm given a clear, view of the man issuing the torture. He says, "You are so weak, Hwoarang. Even when we first met and I fought you to a draw, you were so weak… You were _always _weak. You've never been strong."

"I'm not weak!" I yell, leaning forward to do so.

His eyes are now slits. He strides towards me and grabs me by the chain around my throat, easily lifting me to a standing position. My legs are bleeding, sore and numb, so I'm having trouble putting my feet on the ground and standing. I eventually find my footing, only to lose it again after a harsh punch. It burns, because there's red electricity swirling around that fist and his arm.

He raises it again and delivers a solid punch across my face. I can smell searing flesh, the electricity's burned me. There's a really strong thudding in my jaw. He then stops and cups my chin, digging his fingers into my skin, making sure it hurts and is as uncomfortable as possible, "Are there anymore!? Why did you even _think _you could make a difference?!"

"I'm it!" I scream, "_I am _the last one! There's no more!"

He pauses and throws me back onto the ground, making sure my back collides with the wall. I only just realise that I'm starting to cry again, from the pain induced and from the grief of losing them all – of losing _you. _It was stupid to think that any of us could a made a difference against him, he's just too strong. He's just way too strong to bring down, way too strong to fight, way too strong…

…I _am _weak…

I'm as weak as a newborn. I can't fight back anymore. I couldn't fight in the first place. Not against such a supernatural thing. How did I beat him in his human form at the end of the fifth tournament? How did I make him literally eat dirt? How did I make him become unconscious? Nothing's changed, we're still the same build, we're still roughly the same age and we still hate each other just as much. Nothing's changed at all. I haven't been broken physically or mentally.

But in the end I… I still lost. I remember crawling to try and get away, only to be struck down, meet darkness –

Weak weak _weak._

_Hopeless. Filthy. Worthless. Guilty._

Something goes off and there's another burning sensation in my thigh. I follow the trail of smoke, seeing that one of the soldiers shot me in the leg. I narrow my eyes, wincing and whimpering as another one is shot into the same leg, roughly around the same place. The muscle starts to twitch, and the leg as a whole aches. Blood cascades again. Another shot is fired into my shin of the same leg, and another one into my hip on the same side. Another into my shoulder, another into the laser arm. My body falls victim to the pain, my mind falls victim to the games.

I can hear the devil call my name, "Hwoarang…"

I look up.

"It's over now," Jin says, "There's no way out."

"Yes there is…" I mutter to myself, trying to reinstate hope, trying to strengthen the little hope I have… but to no avail.

I cannot hold on, and I will not let go.

"Even if you do overthrow me…" he states blankly, "the scars will remain, and you will all be forever left in the dark. You will all rise to fall again, out of the light of the sun."

I'm broken now –

God help me, I've come undone…

"Kill him at dawn," Jin huffs, "atop the Gargoyle's Tower. I want everyone to see. Gather my people, stuff them into the square. Get the camera crews ready and make _everyone _watch and listen…" he turns away and leaves, getting all of his soldiers to follow him, "I am going to stamp out the last light of the world… The one, clinging ray that they were praying would burst forth and strike me down. The human sun dies tomorrow morning."

The prison door closes, and I'm barred in again, staring straight ahead into the nothing. I am alone again. I'm screaming on the inside, but I'm so weak that… I think I'm starting to lose it. I think I've lost it. Weary, I lean against the wall again, and the lights go out. It's dark except for these small streams of sun coming in through the tiny window.

And as I fade away, I think to myself, because there's little else to do. I know why losing you was so much more painful than losing Baek in this war now, and as I look to the barred, setting sun and drift off to sleep for the last time, I can't help but smile a little, sick, weary and broken. It's because you broke me. You broke through _all _of me. He tried, but he couldn't. But you wouldn't take no for an answer.

All of these years, swearing that I wouldn't break, and I did. You broke through my walls, you broke my heart.

Through you, Kazama broke my soul too.


	3. I Will Shut The World Away

Author's Note: I AM SO SORRY DX I'm really sorry for not updating this sooner, but you know, Uni etc. But here you guys go D: I hope its okay at best. I worked hard XD. Hopefully I can update this more often from now on T.T

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"Hold me," you murmur softly.

I turn my head, looking at you quizzically. There's a forlorn, worried expression on your face, and I don't like seeing it there. Going one better, I wrap both my arms around you comfortingly and plant a kiss on your forehead. It seems to do the trick, because your shaking – that I didn't know existed until I held you – is beginning to slow. You're worried. You clearly are. And you know what? That's okay.

"Please look after yourself," you say. Your cheek's pressed against my chest, as you inhale deeply.

I don't know when I fell so far for you, but, I'm feeling it. Nodding a little and giving a small 'you too' in response, I run my fingers lightly through your hair and affectionately smile at you, before letting you go and bending down and picking up a handgun and a knife. You do the same, holding a shotgun instead, and smile at me, pressing a kiss on the tip of my nose while standing on your toes.

This is our last stand.

The glass door is kicked in viciously. The sound resonates through the corridor, like a song, even as I slip my hand in, throw the door open, and run inside with you. Soldiers heard the commotion and were already turning and getting ready to shoot us, like robots. They raise their guns and they take aim, ready to fire – but we shot them first, and they fell before they had the chance to retaliate successfully.

Our shitty little plan in this shitty little raid is to shoot everyone and everything in sight that bears Kazama's insignia, go up the stairs to the Gargoyle's Perch, and shoot him to death. It's a dumb plan, and we'll probably die, but god dammit, I want to die trying to inspire others. If we can _at least _get to him… then maybe the people will start to challenge him. Maybe then this'll all end.

Three guards come at me. As I shoot one, I kick the other, and as I turn to get the final one behind me, I smack the gun into his neck, kicking him into the wall thereafter, watching him slide down into a disgruntled heap on the ground. You're fending off more than I was – your gun's going off at random intervals, and I see you throw your feet up, one after the other, kicking the chins of your opponents. You're so caught up in fending off the soldiers coming from outside that you don't hear something skittering across the floor.

"Grenade!" I shout, rushing forth and grabbing your wrist. We run, and behind us, fire swallows the soldiers and the corridor.

We now stand before another group of soldiers, who are merely glaring at us and taking aim. Without a second thought, I sweep their legs out from underneath them with one kick, and as I do that, you take aim and shoot at every single head that smashed into the ground. I dare not to look behind me, because all of the blood and bone and brains will make my stomach turn. Can't have that. Need to stay focused.

They'll have died for a reason.

I hope.

They lived for a reason, however wrong it might've been. Support Kazama - …in the hopes of sparing your friends and family. Support him so that he doesn't hurt those you love, and you yourself. Even if it costs you your soul. What's a few thousand lives compared to those that you guard and cherish with your entire being?

I live for those I lost along the way, and I love for you.

We're no different… except now they are dead, and I'm alive.

It's only when I've turned the corner and began ascending the stairs did I glance over my shoulder and make sure you're alright. There's blood all over your body, your jeans are filthy, your white top is stained with red, and there's even a smidgen of it on your face; but you look up at me with fiery eyes and follow. Somewhere inside of you, you're mourning their loss. Somewhere inside of you, you've realised that this doesn't get any easier, no matter how many times you've done it – and that there'll be a lot more, no matter what happens here and now.

We climb higher and higher, and above us, men are taking shots at us, shouting commands in Japanese. We manage to dodge them and shoot back. You're such a good shot. You got a guy who'd been leaning over and taking shots at me, and when you got him, he fell off the edge of the platform, down, down to the ground of the Zaibatsu below. We're picking off so many of them that they rally and get ready to meet us head on.

Heh… It's funny. A personal army being taken down by two, lowlife losers.

They're afraid of us.

I jump over the last few steps, slice the throat of the lone soldier who remained at the top, and immediately fire, weaving past those bullets that are flying my way. I hear a louder shot behind me, and quickly look to find you shooting them anywhere and everywhere. You're careful, though, because you don't want to hit me – I don't wanna be hit either. My attention's drawn back to the front when a bullet whizzes by the front of my face, missing the tip of my nose. I hide behind a pillar and resume my attacking.

The guns go off over and over and over again, like a symphony of deafening and monotonous clapping.

But there's one bang that rings louder than the others, and it's behind me. Everything else stops after that. They stop shooting. I stop shooting. Everything just stops.

The feeling in my stomach when I turn vaguely reminds me of eating a food that just doesn't agree with my stomach. After that, my throat and my heart and my stomach and everything tightens up as I look at your face. Your eyes are wide. Your lips are slightly parted. You're falling. Just falling.

You're staring.

The shotgun hits the ground, echoing, and then all sounds come running back.

"No no no no no _no!_"

The weapons are still in my hands as I run. They're then on the ground beside me as I catch you.

I look at you.

I just look at you.

Slowly, I suffocate. The pain's so familiar and close to the heart, as I look at you in my arms, _dead._

I can't bear to face the truth –

I'm a shadow of a man –

I'm screaming things to you, things that I don't understand and can't decipher, an uneven sentence of things I want to say – _I'm sorry _and _I love you _and _it should've been me _and _why you _and _say something _and _why why why why why _and _oh God _and _I'm so sorry _and _please, please look at me, smile again _and _it should've been me _and _I'm gonna fucking kill him –_

Furious and teary-eyed, I place you back on the floor, and with the knife you made and gave to me during your first mission, I throw it at the helmet-less soldier who shot you. It gets him between the eyes, and he drops the floor. And that avenging action, it's still not enough. I want more. The thirst for blood is so strong now, it's stronger than it's ever been, and it's _terrifying –_

If enough blood is spilt, maybe it'll bring you back –

Another bullet whizzes by me, and I charge, slamming my shoulder into the guy. He drops his handgun, and I pick it up and fire it at him, watching as glass shatters. I turn and shoot at another guy behind me before he can get to me. I run across the glass floors and pick up his fallen handgun with my other hand, and point at the other soldiers who have their weapons raised to me.

I'm so fucking sorry –

Why did it have to be you –

Chaos runs amuck in my head, I can't even really make sense of what I'm thinking or of what I want to do anymore. All I can see are those eyes looking up at me, taking up my entire, blurry vision. All I'm doing is _shooting _and running and avoiding and moving and crying and screaming and _hating _like I have _never fucking hated _before. Kazama took Baek from me, and it was painful – but this is so much worse, and I don't understand why.

You were too good to die, you were too sweet and caring – it should've been _me! _The fucking _worthless _street thug, not the wandering dreamer –

I have no more ammo, in either gun. I throw them both to the ground and still choking on my tears, I stand a little taller and wave my hands, beckoning them and shutting the rest of the world away. My thoughts are only of you. The mission's not important to me anymore, I don't even seem to realise that with you gone, I'm the last man standing. I'm the last member of the Resistance, I'm the final challenger to the Empire and the people's last hope.

None of that is important, because I've lost what I was fighting for.

"Come on then, shoot me!"

But they don't.

"_Shoot me!_" I yell.

They still don't.

I scream, "Shoot me because I took down your friends! Shoot me because I oppose your master! Shoot me because you want to please him, like the fucking _puppets _you are! Shoot me because you want to! Shoot me because I'm just another stupid kid who thinks he can change the world! Shoot me because I'm fucking _ordering _you to!"

And I say the rest to myself, _Shoot me because I'm sick of trying to make a difference. Shoot me because I'm so tired of this war – of _life _itself. Shoot me because I want to die. Shoot me because every breath I take now is pointless and as worthless as the rest of me. Shoot me because I failed you. Shoot me because then I can be with you again._

I have nothing left.

Every goddamn second I spend _alive _now is fucking _torture_ –

_I can't face the dark without you._

They raise their guns. I hear them all click, and I see them all take aim. I put my arms out and tilt my head back a little, awaiting the inevitable. The tear tracks are still warm on my cheeks, and I can still feel sweat pouring down my body. My breathing is rushed and my eyes are still blurry and wet, but even in this short period, I've bled out all of the tears in my body for you – and I still want to bleed.

Ready –

"Stop."

Chills crawl all over my body, and that bloodthirsty feeling that was paralysing me only moments before dulls to a steady beating. All of their guns lower at once, and they sit up taller and straighter in their ranks, despite whatever corpse may or may not be lying nearby. Through the gap in the ranks, I see _him _approaching me. His weapon is that sinister smirk that's plastered on every billboard in the world and is on every screen in every home. I can _see _his laughter, his _pleasure _in seeing me suffer like this.

Jin Kazama.

The smirk only widens and morphs into a sneer when he's directly before me. He reaches out and grabs my hair, and I can feel some of the hairs give way under his grip, "Who are you to order _my _men around, _Hwoarang?_" With a mighty heave, he throws me into the wall on his right. The collision is painful, and I cough. I can hear him approaching me again, "Last I checked, you were nothing but a member of the Resistance, whilst I hold the world in the palm of my hand…"

I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out.

He chuckles again and slams his shoe into my side, watching me with glee as I curl up and hold my ribs, "Besides, I want to kill you _myself… _But not yet. No, not yet," he lifts me up by my shirt again and pins me against the wall. Evil radiates from every pore, "I want to see you _suffer _still. I want to hear you _scream _and _sob._"

With his other hand, he grips a fleshy spot right above my right elbow, digging his fingers and thumb in _way _too deeply, carving through muscle, and it fucking hurts. I bite my lip, and he notices. My eyes scrunch up as he presses tighter, and I swear I can feel him pinching a nerve, and I swear he can feel his finger at his thumb, and visa versa. But I still say nothing, because _I'm not weak _and I will shut _everything_ I feel _away _if it'll hurt my chances of killing him.

"_Scream, _Hwoarang!" he presses tighter still and knees me in the stomach, "_Cry _for mercy, _beg _for my forgiveness!"

I give in, the pain is too much. I scream.

I don't have to beg, though, because he stops and hurls his fist across my face, thereafter throwing me to the other side of the room again. The tears have started again, and I don't think I've ever been in this much pain. I sit up, the injured arm limply dangling over my stomach, and the other one is cupping the spot just above my elbow. His voice is loud and powerful, and it echoes throughout the Gargoyle's Perch, as do his footsteps, and I'm shaking from the pain and the anger – and the thirst for blood returns as he shouts, "_Hate me!_"

I'm shaking so much with rage. He doesn't have to tell me to hate him, because I already fucking do.

Jin falls silent. He looks to where you lie, still staring up at the ceiling with the same expression you gave me before you died. I hear a firm 'hmm' and watch as he bends over, inspecting your blood-streaked face. He furrows his eyebrows and smirks once again. He reaches out and strokes the side of your face, cupping your cheek in his large hand, "A pity that this had to happen to you, my dear. Then again you always blindly followed your stupid, dreaming heart, and this is where our paths divided…" he stands to his full height again and is still looking at you. With his foot, he turns your head all the way to the right side, "No matter. You're just as worthless now as when I first met you."

Worthless?_ Worthless!_

"Take that back," I growl lowly.

He's pushed your head all the way to the side, and even after he moves his foot away and looks at me, your head won't flop back into place. His expression is blank, his face void of everything, and I can't decipher his thoughts and I'm not sure if I want to. He eventually opens his mouth, and then closes it again – and there it is, that fucking _arrogant, narcissistic sneer –_

I stand and point at him, my other fist clenched and trembling violently, "Take that back!"

He turns away from you wholly and approaches me again, standing just as tall and straight as before. His hands clench into fists and the sneer remains, enforced like steel yet hidden behind a mask of concentration.

It's coming down. This is how it's gonna end. Life is sink or swim, fight or flight…

I will fight. I will fight to _kill._

I let everything take over me again. The hate, the anger, the sorrow. It washes over me and swallows me whole, as I launch the first kick, hoping that it smashes across his face. He anticipates this and parries it, slamming one fist into my thigh and the other into my jaw. I counter with a punch to the head and a roundhouse kick to the face. He goes down, and unhesitant, I tackle him and deliver punch after punch after punch.

I quickly move to his arm and pull on it, feeling something kick. The tyrant's eyes widen and he grits out some profanity that I'm not listening to nor care about. I stand to my feet again and kick him in the side, and am then am swept off of my feet by his leg. I hit the floor, and he's on top of me, doing exactly the same thing I was. Before he gets to my arm though, I knee him in the stomach and push him off.

Grabbing his head, I slam it into the ground, digging my nails into his skin as I do so. I then skitter away, watching him stand and dash towards me. He sends his right fist into my face, red electricity sparkling around the hand. It burns my cheek, just as much as the actual strike does, and I take more steps back, reeling in pain… but my spirit is not dampened.

You think you've won this fight. You've only lost your mind…

In retaliation, I leap into the air, spin seven-hundred and twenty degrees in the air, and deliver the strongest kick I can into his neck. I feel the muscle give way a little, and Jin goes down, shouting out and shouting an order to keep back and let him finish me off. I run over and do an axe kick to his standing form, followed by numerous other kicks to his body.

"And where did you find this resolve?" he sneers, parrying another blow.

I say nothing and deliver a snap kick into his stomach.

He parries and starts his own onslaught, though any attack from that arm is not as strong or fast as it was, "Hm. You're just like me, Hwoarang. Cruel and relentless…"

The words chill and anger me, because I know that while I _can _be those things, I'm really _not _those things. In response to the coming sweeping kick and the statement that's supposed to break me, I parry it too, both physically and verbally, "I'm not like you!"

"Oh yes you are, Hwoarang! Yes you _are!_"

Three shorter punches greet my chest, and whilst they sting, it's probably the least amount of pain he's delivered so far. He then pulls back and slams his right fist into my side, then his left, then his right again. I stagger back and side step a coming front thrust kick, and then go into a small onslaught of my own kicks. Low mid, low low high, low mid mid, mid mid mid low, mid mid high… And he dodges some, but not all. It's like dancing. Dancing with the devil.

I pull back my leg and go to release another strong kick to his side. The kick is grabbed and my ankle is painfully twisted, squeezed and then thrown back. I quickly hop onto the other leg and go to do the same attack, but I'm met with the same result. I try to punch him a few times, but the same result ensues. He's gripping both of my fists so tightly now.

The electricity crackles to life again and sweeps up my arms, burning. I let go quickly and shake my head, avoiding the coming attacks that are of lightning speed. I'm lucky to dodge them at all, and I'm getting very tired very quickly due to the pace that Jin's keeping. I take a breath and hold it in, realising that I started a fight that I won't win.

Then it comes – a fist to the stomach.

"_I'm _in control, Hwoarang!" he spits.

I'm launched into the wall on the opposite side of the Gargoyle's Perch, and holding back the vomit in my throat, I cough and try to breathe in air. I can feel the tears start to fall again, because I see you, and I'm reminded of everything I've lost and everything I've fucked up. The realisation zaps my enthusiasm and my will to continue. I thought I could fight him forever. I thought I'd forever have this youthful exuberance to destroy him. It seems said youthful exuberance has met its end.

I… remember hearing once, this pretty cool line – 'show me where forever dies'. I think it was from a song I heard when I was little. I adopted it to become my catchphrase, as I've said earlier. But I had no idea what it meant, didn't forever go on… well… forever? I think… I've finally found the answer to that. This is where forever dies. Everything that I've associated with 'forever' in my life anyway, it dies here. For my enthusiasm to kill him, for hoping to change the world, for my own personal hopes and dreams and wants… For my soul.

"Take him away!" Jin yells from his side of the room, squeezing his sore shoulder.

I'm grabbed by numerous Tekken Force soldiers, sobbing uncontrollably, because everything I'd worked for and fought to protect has been destroyed from underneath me. The pieces slipped through my hands, and in return for all of my efforts, I have _nothing. _I'd make it through… but… not this time. Your hope – _you yourself, _you're gone… and so is my hope. And I know that I will suffer in the end. They start to take me down the path that leads to nowhere.

I crawl back inside myself and close my eyes, and shut out the colder, blacker world I failed to change.

I am lost forever.


	4. I Will Not Fall

Forty minutes pass.

We run for miles. Just the three of us. And in these moments of weakness, we are all so different.

I just can't believe this is fucking happening. We were all so strong. All of us. There were so many of us – and now its dwindled down to a measly three, running from their safe haven, going over the rolling, green hills and burying ourselves deep into nature, using her as our new cloak and guise. And with this cloak, we'll come back. We'll rise and strike, stabbing the Tyrant and all of his concrete morals with a shining, silver knife. Or so I'd like to think. So I wanted to do, so I wanted _to be._

In reality… there isn't a hope anymore. And I'm not willing to accept that.

I _can't _accept that. I _shouldn't _accept that. I can still make a difference while I'm alive and healthy, even if I'm being ripped apart from the inside out. But how can I go on if there's no hope to pull me along? There is _nothing _I can fucking do anymore, and it just hurts knowing that. It hurts knowing that at the end of this, at the end of all things… I'm not going to have that life with you that I want. I can't even hold onto _that _anymore, because I know… I know it's not going to happen. No matter… No matter how much I want it to be so.

You're devastated and you're still sobbing. All you can think about is who we've lost. All you can think about is the events that have passed. With every life that faded away, I see your eyes grow greyer. You're terrified, because you don't know what's going to happen next, and you don't want to lose either of us – me in particular, if the glances at me are anything to go by. _You know _that these attempts were fucked from the very beginning… yet you still stayed. You still tried. You still believed.

My darling believer… what hope have you now?

It's like you're standing on the edge of your toes, wondering who is going to drop off next. Wondering who is going to fall, who is going to be swallowed by the ground beneath their feet or grabbed from the heaven's above. It's almost like you want to turn back time and spare those lives that were lost for a cause that you now know was a bullshit dream that'd never be realised… no matter how much effort you put in. And the real kick in the teeth is how you can no longer hold onto me, either. You're as hopeless as I.

Lei's just trying to block out the pain. In his moment of weakness, his focus is on getting us somewhere safe, where _he knows _it'll be okay, where _he knows _they'll not come looking for us. While he focuses on those things, he's trying to lose focus on other things. He's trying not to register how his own blood feels beneath his finger as it seeps out of an open wound. He's trying not to feel the numbness that's eating him. He's trying not to feel the weakness in his legs as we move. He's trying not to let that dread – that absolute, innate sense of hopelessness and pointlessness take him down, like the fallen before him. He holds onto his pride.

He falls as everything he fought to create is ripped from underneath him. How can he hold his head high and still hope?

He started this. He and that other guy – and I was just there, helping out, but for the wrong reason initially. It's under Wulong's guidance did I realise exactly how I could really, _really _help and fix and channel all of this into the right reason. Into freeing billions of people from Jin's reign, rather than trying to equal a stupid draw and get back at what is stupid devil form did to me at the end of the Fifth Tournament. He made me realise that I really did have a purpose. After so long fighting on the streets for every little thing I had, _including _a purpose… it was Lei who made me realise I had one all along. And it's this. No matter how pointless it is anymore.

It's as we ascend another hill does he fall to one knee. You call his name, a faint whimper present in your voice. He waves you away, because he's not interested in help. We were cool as crutches for a while, but her doesn't exactly want to be babied – he _is _the super cop, after all. With a large exhalation of breath, he pushes himself back to a standing position, one hand still against his stomach – and then he falls again.

I gather the wounded and begin to lead, blind. This darkness is just all too black for me to navigate through properly. The moon's faint wisps of radiance provide little light to see. My steps are gentle upon the grass, feeling around for large roots or rocks. Wouldn't wanna fall now, especially with cargo on my back. Said cargo's breathing is becoming shallow, and that dread, hopelessness and pointlessness that he's been fighting off has eaten away at my system without me knowing, like a new disease.

There's more murmuring and gasps of pain. You place a hand on my shoulder and squeeze it in support, before pointing in a north-western direction. You speak, your voice carried a little by the wind, echoing in the small meadow we've somehow found, "Let's go over there and sit underneath the tree for a while. We've been going for so long – it's best we sit down and take a breather."

There's no objection from either of us, and soon enough, Lei's resting underneath the tree, looking down at the city we've left behind. You're sitting beside him, patting away the sweat from his forehead with a hanky you found in the pocket of his white pants. I'm standing on his left side, looking at the dent in my shoe, where the bullet was; and then my gaze drifts from him, to you, and then to the city. There's the faint sound of sirens in the distance – it's safe to assume that Jin's sounded it, ordering everybody to search for us vagabonds – and the sound of haggard breathing close by.

This all complete and utter bullshit, and I just want it all to go away.

How many in the beginning? How many in the middle? How many now, near the end?

And how many after the end of all things…?

It's a cycle. A fated cycle that'll just go on and on and – I don't _want _it to end. It can't end. It just can't end. He can't be allowed to win, because if he wins, then what chance does humanity have after that? Will they ever be able to hold their heads up high? Will they ever be able to say that they know the feel of a true smile on their lips as the sunlight softly strokes their skin? If we can't stop Kazama… then who can? Who will?

With his victory, are we crucifying happiness forever?

"Hey…" Lei coughs, looking up at me, his head resting against the bark of the tree.

"Mm?"

"I'm proud of you."

I feign a smile to try and ease him, even though it's really hard to; and then scratch the back of my head, shifting my weight onto the opposite leg, "What's there to be proud of? Look at who we've lost. Look at the fallen – _they_ are the ones you should be proud of. Not me. Never me."

"And why _not_ you?" he offers, rolling your eyes, "You've… You've done… You've done the same as them. You've fought for what you believe in, and you have died so many times inside doing… the same thing…" His gaze shifts again, looking at the city that he once protected day in and day out with the highest priority, "I'm proud of you for growing up. For burying what wasn't important and stepping up to what was. That rivalry might've been important once upon a time… but now… not anymore. And you let that go in favour of trying to do something good – in favour of trying to do something… _great!_

"I'm proud of you for not letting the bad things… eat away at who you are. Baek's death could've absolutely shattered you – I'm sure it did, in fact – but you still put it aside, because you knew there was time to grieve and mourn him later. You're focused… that's something that I rarely see in you, so thank you for blessing us with that determination… that we all drew inspiration from. I have faith… that you can do it. I still believe. I'll always believe… even if I fall."

You've interrupted, crystalline tears rimming your eyes, "Don't talk like that."

"Oh come on," you give a half-hearted chuckle and weakly wave your hand, but it falls to the ground immediately after, like a dead weight. Even in your withering moments, you still have the strongest life, "You know it's true! A man… A man can only go on for thirty to sixty minutes after being shot in the stomach… without… medical treatment. I've got no time left, guys. I've got nothing… but I'm still so proud of you both, so never… never ever forget that. I know… that the Resistance is in… good hands."

My hands are in my pockets, and my eyes are intently staring at his face as it begins to droop, "Wulong, what will you have me do?"

He tilts his head back towards me with a wayward, cocky smile, "Whatever it takes."

A feigned smile manifests again, "Whatever it takes?"

He nods a little, eyes refocused on the city as they rapidly lose their shine, "Whatever… it takes…"

As his voice dies away, you put your hands on his shoulders and lightly shake him, calling his name softly. When you're met with no response, and when you watch as his hand stops pressing against his stomach, you call his name again, only louder and with a more desperate tinge in your tone. When the wind picks up and blows, chilling your skin, you shake your head and exhale shakily, looking away from the man who just lost his life.

I'm still holding my mask close to my face, but my sadness and rage is still turbulent behind it. I walk around his body, the grass softening my steps, and grab your arms, lifting you up from your seated position on the ground. You're trembling as I put my arms around you and hold your head against my chest and run one of my hands in circles on your back, just letting you cry. Just letting you cry, because if there's ever a time to be sad for everybody who has died, it's now… because we might not get that opportunity again. Even I cave in with a few stray tears as I lightly kiss your forehead, trying to be comforting.

There's sobbing and silence, and sobbing _in _silence. The wind's died down, but the bite hasn't. And it won't.

"Lei Wulong," you say, wiping tears from your eyes, "The Shepard of the Damned."

And damned we are.


	5. I Will Not Fade

Author's Note: I was serious when I said I would update this more often :3 Thanks for your unwavering support guys (or those of you who are still here...!).

_**

* * *

**_A newspaper hits me in the face.

After a disgruntled 'was that _really _necessary?' emitting from my throat, I grab the thing and actually look at it. It takes me several moments to register what the text on the front page says. It takes me several more moments to register that my face is on the page as well. Hissing at the insignia displayed on the top right hand of the page, I look up to Lei, who is as worried as hell, "Fuck."

"'Fuck' is probably an understatement," he murmurs, chuckling a little thereafter to keep the place as alive and happy as possible. He looks at me and the two girls before snatching the newspaper from my hands, reading aloud, "'We see one Hwoarang gaping as his accomplice is shot in the head and falls to the ground. The bystanders are like owls, looking on with wide eyes, but are wise enough to not come forth and speak or act. The strength of the Empire is still well known. Perhaps this old Iron Fist Participant has not yet learnt his lesson. If any you find any information on the Korean, or know his whereabouts, please contact a representative of the Empire,'" he then leans back in his squeaky chair and throws the newspaper down on the ground, "Seems like you are now officially unable to leave this house unless you wanna get killed or have us found."

"Wonderful."

He shrugs nonchalantly and offers a sympathetic smile before turning to face you, noting at how your face is a little more vibrant and a little more happy, and how you've constantly been staring at me on and off. I admit I love the attention, "Say, have you got any ideas on what we can do now? I think we should try another sneak attack, but on one of the smaller bases instead of the Zaibatsu, seeing as the Zaibatsu is enormous and pretty well guarded since… you know."

You pause for a few moments and tap your chin, thinking. After a few more moments, you cast a quick glance at me – one which I return – before looking back directly at our leader, speaking softly and choosing your words carefully, "While I do think that is a viable course of action, I'm not sure it's the best one. There's no way we can attack the Zaibatsu again, you're right – but I don't really know what we could do from here. We went to recruit more members, and we lost one, thus taking our number down to four. We cannot afford to lose anymore people – we all know this. Perhaps the best thing we can do is sit and wait for the hype to go by before we propose a new course of action."

There's a huff and a fist slamming into the wall beside Lei. Asuka pushes herself off of the wall she was leaning on and starts pacing back and forth, glaring at the ground beneath her feet as she munches on a Meji Almond chocolate bar that she managed to find in the rations bag. With her mouth full, she looks at us and speaks, ignoring the few crumbs that splutter forth, "I can't just sit here and do nothing! That defies the entire point of me joining this damn thing, and of my Dad and Lei making this Resistance! We've _got _to be able to plan something."

"Well unless you can think of something better than 'run out and do a dance and get ourselves killed', Asuka, we'd love to hear it," I chime, bored.

She grins at me and then points at me, "You, good sir, would most likely be shocked to believe that I actually have thought of something!" She finishes the rest of her chocolate, crunches the wrapper up and throws it in the bin nearby. She then spins in a small circle, addressing the three of us, "How about we buy or make a bunch of explosives, cover them in money and jewels and stuff, and then just march on in to one of the smaller headquarters – or the Zaibatsu itself if we can make it – run the hell out, and then _kaboom!_" She throws her arms up, "The place goes up in flames. Kinda like in the…" She frowns at the memory.

Lei snaps his fingers, "That's a bit nutty, but it could work. We could at least get the explosives together and throw them at one of the bases. I know where we could buy them too," he sits up, almost tripping over the chair in the process, before grabbing a small phonebook by the rations. He flips it open and scans down numerous names, before placing his thumb on one of them and grabbing his cellphone from his pocket, beginning to dial, wandering out of the room thereafter, "Hopefully they haven't closed down or been found or anything…"

There's a sudden bang, and we all look up to where the front door to the house is. There's then the sound of foot prints over and over again, and commands to find us and capture us – and then we're all backing up towards the secret exit. I swallow hard – how'd they find me? I'm the obvious link, I'm the one the Tyrant can identify best, and I mean, look at my freaking hair – but I haven't left this place since that fateful day all of those weeks ago. What is this shit?

They're suddenly downstairs with guns blazing, and there's a single, male voice growling down the corridors in synchronisation with his thumping footsteps. It's not Kazama, because his voice is too high for that, and his pronunciation of the words aren't as clear cut or perfect, "Come on out, boys and girls! The jig is up!"

Lei's eyes drift over us as we continue to walk away. He murmurs, "Don't… make… a sound."

We're pretty successful, and I'm inwardly cursing at how long the corridor back to the other exit is – and then I'm cursing out loud when the first bunch of soldiers pour down the stairs and form two lines towards us. It's like a cold sweep's come through, because we've all frozen up upon seeing them, just as they get into position – and a deeper, more emotionless 'take aim' is heard from above. The owner of the voice is now behind them – it's Kazama – and his arms are folded across his chest as his eyes scan over us all.

He's identifying us, one by one and with immaculate ease. He describes us, words falling off the end of his tongue, and there's a malevolent sneer on his bitter face aimed at each of us as he does so, "The super cop, born to fight for what is right, but never able to go that little bit further and make his dreams a reality. The bratty youth with an overbearing conviction, so uncertain in how her life is to pan out. The woman with an unwavering resolve, rattled in the face of the enemy, her former principles abandoned in the belief of blood. And the street rat, forced to fight for everything he has ever known.

"There was a time, long, long ago, that I knew all of your names, the full depths of your histories, your desires and your dreams… but I now only know your faces," he's glanced at me – I'm the exception. How could he forget his old rival? Before him, the soldiers take aim as he speaks once again, eyebrows lowering slightly as his voice takes on a serious rather than taunting tone, "Tell me your names."

We're all silent for several moments, until he gets fed up and screams at us, "Tell me your _names!_"

In a smooth, swift movement, Lei's withdrawn his hidden handgun and fired it in retaliation, successfully killing one of the soldiers up ahead. You've done the same, only a few milliseconds behind, killing the soldier beside the fallen one. There are a few clicks – they're ready to fire – but Jin commands them not to shoot, because our names are so important to him. Every name is a conquest, and he now _thrives _off of them. He needs them to feel accomplished. He needs them to feel like he is still terrorising the world, that these people – us, in our nameless glory – still crack under the weight of his horror.

In a world that is his, we are his toys. His only pleasure.

He tilts his head to the side when he realises that we don't speak. He does nothing as we charge at the soldiers, who shoot on their own. Most shots miss, some hit us in awkward places. I know one's lodged into the metal part of my shoe. We're shooting, we're all just shooting and kicking and punching the soldiers, who do little to fight back aside from shoot and shoot and shoot. As my head turns, I see the form of Asuka, in her light blue glory, absolutely rip the shit out of the men.

She spins in a small circle, the back of her hand slamming into the neck of a soldier, and at the same time she pulls the trigger and shoots the soldier behind him in the head. There's then a low, left kick to the soldier just beside him, and another shot or two sent deep into the line. The men fall like bricks to her might. To her strength. To her determination. Because my God, she's furious.

This hurts her more than us. Sure, we've lost people, we've seen loved ones be tortured and die, we've seen the world be torn apart by this one, young man… but on top of all of that, she's seen the Resistance crumble, and she's been there since the start. This _is _her inheritance, and its dying faster than she – than _any _of us – can save it. And the one who is on top of the world, the one who is unravelling it all, is _her own blood. _Her cousin. Someone she should've been laughing and smiling with at the memories in their childhood, one that they did not have together.

Blood against blood.

The curse of the Mishimas has long diluted into the Kazama clan. It unravels like an old tapestry, here and now.

Lei's murmuring something to you, telling you to creep towards the door so you can get out, and he shoots a look at me to do the same. He knows there's no way we can win here – and then his face contorts into a fearful one, as all of us watch a bullet whiz through the air and rip through Lei's pink, blood-stained shirt and parts the skin and muscle, lodging itself deep into his stomach. There's a gurgled noise, and then he drops his handgun, both trembling hands whisking to his stomach, pressing against the wound as he begins to stagger away.

My eyes widen a little, but they watch as he turns and heads straight for the door. You've put away your weapon and are running towards him, aiming to help him out; and then his arm is around your shoulders, and you carry him around the corner and towards the nearby door, one that is cloaked so well that should Kazama find his way there, he'll not locate it. My mouth forms a hard, firm line, and the sides droop downward.

There's a ferocious growl up ahead, and my attention's drawn back to Asuka and the fight. She's torn through the soldiers to try and get to Kazama, but the guards that are closer towards him will not have it. She's tackled to the ground as I take steps forwards, intending to help her escape – and I'm shooting at the guys that have got her down. I _won't_ lose another. I _won't!_

Her eyes drift towards me as she takes punch after punch to the face, and then there's a snap to her arm as blood oozes out of her nostrils. She smiles a little, mouthing 'leave', even as she throws off the soldier pinning her down, shooting the one next to him at the same time, watching him fall to a heap on the ground. There's water in my eyes as I slink away, down the corridor but not without seeing her still.

And then in a few instances, Jin whips out his own handgun and shoots Asuka.

He doesn't get her head, surprisingly, but rather her throat. There's a piercing scream – but it fades so quickly, and it's almost as though it's voiceless. He's shot a vocal chord or something – I'm not all that good with that type of anatomy, but he's shot something that affects how she speaks – and there's blood cascading down her throat, like a river of flowing, aimless blood. She staggers backwards until she finds support in a wall, sliding down it and leaning against it. Her right hand's pressed up against her throat, and her left hand's holding the handgun as she struggles to breathe.

Yet through all that, her eyes narrow as he chuckles. Mustering the last of her strength and taking in several gasps of air, Asuka slowly pushes herself back up to her feet, gun still in her hand, and aims at her kin, screaming with whatever voice she has left, despite the blood that's clogging her throat and making it nigh impossible, "I will fight for one last _breath!_"

Face still as blank as ever, he shoots the hand that was holding the gun. She falls back, looking to the ceiling as Jin approaches through his soldiers. A foot on her stomach, he studies her face. He studies the way her hair parts and grasps the ground. He studies the way she looks up at him with complete and utter _fear – _and that is just what he wants. That's just what he _needs._

"God, let her go…" I'm trembling because I can't watch this again – and there are thousands upon thousands of knives stabbing at my aching heart as I turn away and run for my fucking life.

He shoots, the sound resonating through the cavernous hallways. She fades, her soul ripping through the ceiling to escape to the clouds high above.

"You should've learnt by now…" Jin hisses lowly, his voice echoing through every room – and then he slams his fist against something as he screams out louder, the tone and strength of the sound piercing my armour and ripping deep into my heart, even as I run the hell away, "I'll burn this _whole _world down!"

Soon enough, you and Lei are in my line of sight, opening the door slowly. Lei's slumping, and you're crying, wiping away tears as you haul him through the open gap. I'm behind him now, throwing his other arm around my shoulders and helping him through the door. All of his weight's been allocated to me as you slam the door shut behind us, and we begin to run far, far away into the coming night on the ground, above where Asuka Kazama was reborn into eternal life.

"Heaven hear me, we can make it out alive…" you sob.

Your cries hurt me more than leaving her; and even then, I live to fight and die another day.


	6. I Will Take Your Breath Away

Sorrow still remains.

I'm staring at the ceiling blankly, unsure of what to think. One by one, we're being killed. As our forces dwindle, so does our hope, and nobody has a way of reinstating it. We're all too glum and depressed to even think of a way to attack Kazama and the Empire. We're suffering slowly, piece by piece, being buried by our grief, the burdens we've placed upon ourselves, the war, life itself… Just… everything, you know?

I'm starting to think that maybe this isn't possible. Maybe we can't overthrow him. Maybe everything we've ever thought and dreamed of is just exactly that – a stupid dream that we would've been really happy to see happen. If I think about it realistically, this entire thing is just pointless and stupid. We're a grand, massive and _impressive _total of _four people. _Four, from what used to be seven only what, a few weeks ago? Four, from what used to be twelve? Four, from what used to be twenty-eight?Twenty-eight from what used to be _fifty-seven?_

I remember telling the others about the youth's suicidal defiance. Lei shook his head and held his head in his hands, muttering 'no no no no, it's all wrong, this is all going wrong'. He then grabbed a bottle of alcohol and actually left the whole hideout to drink in a quiet place. I dunno where, but I'm worried about him because I've never seen him act like this before. I think he's worried about what will happen to the rest of us, and, aside from grieving, can't believe what's happening to his beautiful Resistance.

Asuka cried. Yeah, she cried. Her tears stung me. I care a lot about her. It hurts to see her this way. It's not breaking my heart or anything but, behind that vigilante, underneath that tough girl exterior, she's really affectionate. She was so close to her, like I was. We'd both known her for ages, me more so than her, but since joining the Resistance, she'd been spending more time with her. When she heard the news, Asuka left for the arcade to try and distract herself.

As for you… Your eyes were dead and unblinking, again. I expected that from you, but I didn't expect you to stare at me as though I suddenly had a giant zit on my forehead, or an alien sucking my brain out of my nose. I think you were worried about me, I'm not sure. I've clearly been unstable since witnessing what I saw. Yeah I'm used to death and all, but, I'm not used to seeing a suicide. Murder, sure. Suicide? No. Just… no. How can someone feel that way? If I was in her shoes, I can honestly say that I wouldn't have done it. As for where you've gone, I don't know. I was the one who left afterwards. I went upstairs.

It feels like I've being lying here forever. Just lying here, staring at the ceiling, and alone to reminisce on the events of the past few weeks. I think it's been two months now, maybe more. Two months since the seven strongest started to sink. Two months since Baek died, two months since you arrived. So much has changed in my world in the time that's passed that it's just insane.

The water pulls me down. It swallows me whole and I close my eyes and hold my breath. The water is comforting, cool and carefree. It glides over me, washing away my stress and my hate, sadness and anger. I can't allow that to control me, so I let the water take it away from me. It's allowed to glide and flow around its ceramic confinement, boundlessly drifting around the walls, but not touching me, because I won't let it. If I lose control, I lose everything and become the shadow of a man. A shadow of myself, trying to find solace in liquid.

I'm trying to find the enemy within. I can feel it crawl beneath my skin, and I want to dig it out, stop it from itching and chaining me, and stomp on it repeatedly. That enemy is uncertainty, its subordinate is caution, and their weapon is _fear. _I don't want to be a victim of fear. Fear has no purpose and no place in my body, mind, heart or soul. It's okay to be afraid, but I don't _want _to be, because I could be exploited in the eyes of the enemy, and that is as bad as torture.

The burning in my lungs proves to be too strong to ignore. I push myself back up, water flying everywhere, and inhale. Oxygen fills my body, and water streams down my face. It weighs down my hair, and I reach up and wipe the annoying droplets from my eyes and look to the tiled, beige walls opposite me. Gotta keep calm here, I really, really do. The others aren't coping well with what's going on, so I've gotta be the responsible one and keep them together, if only for a while. At least until Lei's alright again, then he can become the rock.

I feel a little better from my self-devised therapeutic session. Stepping from the bathtub, I grab the towel next to me and poorly dry myself off and put my jeans back on. I lean in again and stuff my hand underneath the water, pulling the plug, and as the water spirals down the drain, dragging all my negative emotions down with it. The things that weighed me down, like the water that's holding onto my hair, won't stay with me, because I won't let them. I can't afford to.

There's a knock at the door, and then it slowly creaks open. I look away from the water to see you standing there, shocked to see me there without my shirt on. You blush and look to the ground, sliding in, "I've been looking for you. I thought you left with the others… What are you doing in here?"

My gaze has long since turned from your beautiful face, and it's focusing on the last of the spinning liquid, the last of my sorrows, willing it all away. I speak lowly, "I'm watching water go around in circles and down a drain."

"…Why?"

I shrug, "Cleansing."

"You're watching water go down a drain for 'cleansing'…?"

"Ye-es?"

To my surprise, you smile at me and pat my back. Your hand is warm, "I didn't think you, of all people, would even think of such a thing. You have quite an intricate, creative and positive mind, there. Clever, even."

"You scar me," I joke, in reference to the 'clever' part. You basically think I'm stupid. Thanks.

Surprised to find myself rather annoyed at such a comment, I slip from your grasp, toss on my nearby black wife beater shirt, and head back downstairs, escaping the light of the home and returning to the underground dwellings. Lei and Asuka still haven't returned, so it just leaves me and you. It's only when I'm back in the main meeting room do I realise that aforementioned 'cleansing' really did fuck all. Still kinda nervy here. Not such a good thing.

"You're scared," you state.

"No," I drawl.

"Yes you are."

"Leave me alone."

You click your tongue and nod, approaching me until you're right in front of me. Your voice is certain and sure – it's like you've found some type of new treasure, "You're scared of what's going to happen next. Her suicide really jolted you, and so, you're wondering how long it'll take before one of us cracks under the same pressure… and leave you alone again."

There's some type of noise in the back of my throat, like a dismissive claim, or a frustrated hiss; I don't know how you picked that up. Just because I've been terrified of being alone as a child doesn't mean it still runs through to today – but God knows that I'm still not a fan of it, "I'm not scared."

"It's okay to be scared."

"_I know _that," I growl, before trying to sidestep around you. Of course, you won't let that happen. You mirror my every footstep, even though I'm clearly getting annoyed and fed up with your current and unusual inquisitiveness, "Look, I know you're only looking out for me, but right now, I just wanna be alone. She was my friend, she has been for a while, so just being there when it happened and seeing it for myself has really rattled me."

"You are lying to me."

I…

Your voice is short – you're frustrated, but understanding, "You are lying to me so that I don't worry."

…don't really wanna be alone right now.

If it wasn't for the fact that I like you – well, _really _like you – well, _a lot – _I would've probably gotten really hissy and growled at you, saying how you were wrong, and then make up some awesome speech to get me out of this predicament. As it is, you can see what I'm feeling, and, as I am right now, that's something I don't like at all, "_Lying _to you and covering up the truth are two very different things. And I'm not just lying _to you,_" I throw my hands up and turn to lean against the nearest wall, patting my body down, before realising that I'm fresh out of cigarettes, "Fuck, I need a smoke."

"But you are still withholding information so I do not worry," At this, you lean against the opposite wall, hands behind your back, curling into one another a little. There's an expression on your face that I don't quite understand, and whatever I can see, it's hidden behind a silver mask, one that you hold ridiculously close to your face. Can you even breathe? Does it cover up the wounds you can't hide? "And so that you yourself don't worry."

"You're clever," I bite out, echoing your words from earlier.

"I am merely stating the truth."

"Yeah, well, maybe I don't want to talk about it," I growl, pushing myself off of the wall and walking away from you, moving backwards so that I can still see you, "Maybe I just want to be left alone right now so I can try and sort myself out. Maybe I just can't handle the truth in this very instant because it fucking hurts, and I'm sick of hurting. I'm just so fucking sick of hurting."

"Aren't we all," you retaliate, clenching your fists – and for a few moments, you think I don't notice, even as I stop walking and just look at you. You think I don't notice how your voice has shrunk back and become faint, or how your eyes are narrowing and blinking at a faster rate, or how you're seemingly falling into yourself against the wall, or how the little breaths you take are becoming shallower and shallower, like you're trying to bury a memory. There's something crawling underneath your skin– a venomous itch that's both addictive and repulsive as the lights fade and you remember how they screamed.

It eats away at your mind and your heart and your soul. It slithers through your veins, fuelling you to do this. Fuelling this hatred for Jin Kazama and for all he has done. But you didn't know where to start, did you? You searched for us because you had nowhere else to turn. You knew you couldn't make a difference alone, but you didn't want to sit still like so many others around you. You were looking for something similar to a family. For friends. Just for someone to share your vision – someone who had the guts to do it.

You were looking for a mirror.

You were looking for someone who felt the same pain as you did, amongst all of those others in the world. Amidst the sea of pain, you chose us. You followed the hopeless and shut your eyes. You took to the abandoned, where none will shine, because we are all dead inside. You went into the nothing. Faded and weary, you did what you thought was best – and now, you're not so sure anymore. And I can't say I blame you.

But you are here because you know pain. You don't want sympathy. You don't want any of that shit – no 'Oh, I'm so sorry for your loss', no fake smiles and plastic fingernails combing through your long hair to try and soothe you. You don't want someone else taking off your glasses and wiping away the tears from your eyes – you are a wall of emotions, one that you don't dare lower or allow others to climb over. You don't want someone to sing the anthem of the angels. You don't want to say your last goodbye.

You just want someone to understand.

"Who did you lose?" I murmur.

"My Mother."

"Tell me how you felt."

You cast something cross between a sorrowful look and a hazy glare at me, before closing your eyes and trying to steady your breathing. You're hashing up something that's so close to the surface, but your hands are still shaky as you pry apart the Earth and collect what you find, "It felt like… a burning, hot blade striking through my very being… but it was nothing like the fire that burned around my home, my Mother's body, and around all of my people. It swallowed everything, like the unforgiving sea. I don't know how fast I ran… or how much I cried… But all I feel now in this hollow shell is hate for Jin Kazama and what he has done not only to the world, but now personally _to me_. I have nothing left in this life – only this emotion."

"Tell me what you want."

"I want Jin Kazama dead," you seethe.

"And what will you do after that?"

You hold onto the comfortable silence. You hold onto it because you don't know. What will happen once you give away the last of yourself? This hatred? You'll be nothing again, and you don't even know if you want that. You'll have no life. You'll have nothing to pour all of yourself into, to fight for or against, to protect or kill, to laugh with or cry for.

"So nothing, basically. You're just gonna pick yourself back up, dust yourself off and say goodbye."

You shrug and pull some loose hair behind your ear. It pops back out, but you don't notice because you are so engaged in the conversation. My coming footsteps alert you to the fact that I'm coming closer, and you seem to collapse further into yourself again when you see me standing in front of you, and when you realise that even if we're successful in overthrowing Kazama, your life will be just as meaningless as it was beforehand, "Yes."

"You're gonna just sit all by yourself on this Earth and watch the trees grow and the clouds go by. You're gonna pull up that wall of yours, pull it closer to yourself, shut the world away and make it known that you will never be broken or ripped apart from the inside out again. You are _more than willing _to become lost once again. To be the lost one."

"You don't understand," you growl. You're almost like a child.

"Don't you _ever_ say that to me again," I hiss, "because _we_ _all_ understand how you're feeling. I've lost things too. I myself am lost. I lost my parents as a child. I lost my Master a few weeks ago because of this stupid motherfucker. I've been losing friends left, right and centre – but I don't sit there and let the hatred for Kazama, my rival for numerous years, build up. Because _I know _once I'm done here, I'll be a shadow of the man I was, nothing less. I'll have nothing left to hold onto.

"I might be lost, but I know what I want to do – I wanna live. That's what I'm fighting for. I'm fighting for life. When life begins again, I want to hold onto something good. I don't want them to have died in vain. Nobody deserves to have died in vain. Not Baek, not the others, and not your Mother. They found where forever dies – but it's not your time to find it yet, either. Even if it dies as you live in a lonely world."

You're voiceless.

"Please," I murmur, tucking your hair behind your ear again, "Find something good. Find something good and hold onto it."

It takes me by surprise when you lightly reach up and touch my arm, and it causes me to freeze up. Your hands are shaking, and I'm soon finding myself to be as voiceless as you were only moments ago. The soft skin snakes up my arm, passing my shoulder and my neck, before settling on the side of my face. It's so enticing. Just… feeling something soft in this hard and brutal world… it almost feels foreign, because it's been so long. It inflames my inside, giving them life like they'd never felt before, but could vaguely recognise its cousin somewhere in the back of my head.

I'm unable to do anything but close my eyes in this weakness.

You remind me of my Mother's touch, however long ago that was. Soft. Gentle. Firm. Caring, even – but all things good. Your sternness reminds me of my Father's, because it's so deeply rooted in your system, and it's just the way you are. Your fingers drape down my cheek once – twice – three times, before moving to my lips, running over them delicately. You're taking the time to take my breath. It's this action that causes my eyes to snap open and stare at you, wondering if your lips are as petal-soft as your fingers feel.

It takes a few seconds before I succumb to my curiosity and kiss you.

They're softer. They're sweeter. Kinda like honey.

Your arms come around me – heaven's arms – and I suddenly feel safe, even as I pull back and rest my forehead against yours. Words uncontrollably spill forth. I didn't even know I felt this way until they came, "You're my 'something good', the something I want to keep and hold onto throughout this whole thing, and even after it's finally over. I will always be here for the rest of my life."

"However long your life may be," you say with a hint of humour in your voice.

"No longer the lost," I murmur to you.

"No longer the saved," you whisper back, a hand in my hair.

I close my eyes.


	7. And I'll Survive, Paranoid

"What makes you think we can get people to join us?" I say.

Miharu smiles a little and brushes her hair out of the way of her eyes, "Because, I think their fear is weakening."

I'm out with Miharu, because she dragged me out with her and thinks that if we talk to the people and tell them about the Resistance, then more people will join. I actually don't think it's that bad an idea, but I don't think it's a good one either. Lei approved of the thought, but he told us specifically to only be out for an hour and a half, including travel. He also told us to be extremely careful and to take our small handguns for protection, for survival. Miharu jumped at this idea. Since joining the Resistance, she's loved guns. The rest of us are just impartial to them, you in particular.

Shrugging, I stuff my hands into my jean pockets and notice three teenage girls looking at us. I then notice that the Japanese youth is moving towards them, and, bored and unsure, I follow. They're dressed in their school uniforms, and I realise it's the same school that Miharu used to go to. They might've been her younger friends. Maybe she thinks she can get them to join, maybe she can get information on her family from them.

"Hi," she says, feigning cheer.

"Hello," the surprisingly tall one in the middle says. She's eyeing me, "Who's the hunk?"

Heh, well…

"A friend of mine," she states, "I was wondering if –"

"Oh so he's not your boyfriend? Sweet. Hey hun, lookin' for a good time?"

Deciding to screw around for my amusement, I say, "Sorry, I'm over sex."

"How can you be 'over' sex? Obviously I'll have to fix that."

"Not interested. I think your girlfriends will get jealous."

The girl looks to her other two friends. I'm struggling to hold in laughter, but I think I snorted a little. Miharu chuckles and looks at me approvingly, before looking back to the three girls. She's holding onto a clipboard, and she wants to write down a list of names on the blank paper before her. Pulling her pen out from behind her ear, she speaks, "I was wondering if you three were interested in joining a Resistance group that was dedicated to bringing down the Empire."

The one in the middle and the one on the right shake their heads rapidly, fear ebbed deep in their eyes.

The one on the left with the blonde highlights gasps and shakes her head repeatedly, "No no no! I love the Leader! How can you want to bring him down?"

My eyes narrow dangerously, and my voice has picked up some type of poison in its tone, "How can you 'love' the man who destroyed the world?"

She smiles and clasps her hands together, and weirdly babbles, "He didn't destroy it, he made it better! He's so dreamy… Power is so sexy. Beautiful hair, beautiful eyes, a godly body… Oh man…" she fans herself, "I'll be his queen any day."

Utterly repulsed, I walk away, not hearing any following remarks from any of the three girls. Miharu follows too, shaking her head with disgust. Sighing, she looks down to the list and then looks up at my angry face as we walk, "There is still nobody on the list, Hwoarang. I guess I was wrong to think that the fear was diminishing…" Rubbing her forehead, she continues to speak, "What do you think we should do?"

"I don't know. Sorry."

After a small nod, she continues to prattle on, "We've asked so many people of so many different ages, nationalities, and so on… Rich or poor, they won't join us. With meaning to life, they won't come – and with nothing left to lose, they turn away. What're we doing wrong? Hmm… I guess we'll have to ask Lei when we return, hey?"

"I suppose," I say, hands still deep in my pockets, "Maybe the people aren't ready to try."

We stop in the Plaza, seeing hundreds, if not thousands of people going about their daily lives, pretending that they're not living in poverty or haven't lost a son to Tekken Force or the war. Our gazes crawl up the buildings, spotting the giant television that was installed many years ago. The news runs around the clock, and every half an hour there's some propaganda advertisement in favour of the tyrant and the Empire he controlled.

Currently on the television is the scene of the bomb site from about three weeks ago now. I state, "Maybe they need to see that. Maybe need to see that a difference has been made, against something so huge…" My gaze drifts to the masses that all look like stunned mullets, gaping at what coordinated, colour pixels and murmuring things I can't quite understand – but they're definitely paying attention. I grin a little, "They need inspiration!" I turn to my accomplice, "That's it, Miharu, they need inspiration!"

She looks a little happier and nods, "Okay, we'll try that."

I find a burly, lonely man, who is sitting up in the back corner and watching the television with a small smirk on his face. He's clearly pleased about the events that are going on. We move towards him, standing on either side. I lean against the wall, arms folded, and Miharu leans against it as well, clutching the clipboard close to her chest; and this time I do the speaking in my super suave voice, "I take it you like what's happened, huh?"

"Definitely," he growls, clenching his fists, "They deserve it. It's a mighty blow to the Empire, one I'd love to be a part of."

"Then I'm glad we found you," I watch as Miharu hands him the clipboard and the pen, "We're the ones who made that bombing happen. We're part of the Resistance, a small group dedicated to shattering the Empire and killing the man at the top. Join us and you can help restore freedom to the world, and give that idiot Leader a good thrashing."

He licks his lips for a moment and moves to sign the sheet when I suddenly hear gasping. My head snaps to the cause of the noise, and my eyes widen dramatically, seeing _him _come through the crowds with numerous Tekken Force soldiers. It seems the man that was going to sign sees it as well and flees immediately, dropping the pen and the clipboard. I draw my gun and so does Miharu, and we point and take aim at the man, hoping to take him down.

He's looking at us when we fire, and a strange, purple light illuminates around him. The bullets collide with the shield he's made, and they hit the floor as though they were never launched. The shield then fades and he starts to move towards us with his soldiers, who are aiming at us and trying to take shots now. 'His' _slaves, _the ones who are terrified of him, are yelling for us to be killed and for him to succeed – but they're only saying it because they're scared. They part, letting him through.

"We gotta get out of here," I say, looking to her, "Come on, Miharu. We can live to fight and die another day."

It is not this day that I will die.

She follows, but to my surprise, she's still looking over her shoulder a lot, stopping and shooting. Her hatred for the man runs deep, because she knew him personally once. So did I, but, I was never on friendly terms with him like she was. It's a different type of blow to her. To me, its 'I always knew you were an asshole, but I didn't think you stank that much'. To her, it's 'why have you changed so much'. To her, it's 'you survived through all of that pain and torture, paranoid and trembling, for this; and I don't understand'. To her, it's 'you were my friend, and you've hurt everything that I love – I won't stand for this'.

I help her out by taking another shot, but like before, the bullets fall short of his body. A shot rages past me, and if I'd been merely an inch to the left, it would've got me in the head and killed me. Shaken by that fact, I put the gun away and look straight ahead of myself, bounding over endless amounts of rubbish, looking for somewhere to hide and the fastest path back to the hideout, where I'll be safe. Miharu's still shooting, but her shots have slowed in consistency and become sloppy.

She's shot in the arm. I go to help the whimpering girl, but she shoves me away, "Run. I'll get him."

I try to pick her up again but she pushes me away, using her stronger legs this time. I look to her one last time with sad eyes and indeed move, navigating through a long alley until I come to a safe hiding spot. I peer out and watch her stand to her feet, stand before the tyrant with an angry look on her face. She's surrounded by Tekken Force soldiers, all of them pointing guns at her, waiting for their master's command. Just waiting.

"Greetings, Miharu Hirano," he drawls, arms folded across his chest.

She says nothing. She clenches her fists, one of which is still tightly holding the handgun.

He raises his large eyebrows and states, "No 'hello' back? Have you not missed an old friend?"

"You are no friend of mine," she hisses.

"The unchangeable past says otherwise."

She spits on him. The wad lands on his right cheek, and, disgusted, angry and annoyed, he wipes it off with the back of his trench coat sleeve. He whips out a handgun of his own and points it at her forehead with his left hand. She aims back, holding the weapon both hands now. All of the Tekken Force soldiers get ready to pull the trigger. The Japanese youth speaks, "The past may be undoable, but the future is what we make of it."

He chuckles once, smirking. A click in his gun is heard, and it is mirrored by hers, "The future is what _I _make of it."

There are tears in her eyes, and I can feel a lump forming in my throat. I know she's going to die, but I don't know who will be the one to shoot. She wants to say something, something that will leave an imprint on the spectators, but she's not sure what. I can tell that she's thinking of her friends and her family, I can tell that she's wondering if what she ever did – in her old life or her new one with me and the others – ever made a difference.

He leans forward a little and presses the cold metal against her head. The feeling of it against her skin has seemingly paralysed her. His smirk widens, and his eyes twinkle with amusement and something that I can't identify, "You have no future, and the future does not have you in it."

Miharu throws his arm up and away from herself just as he fires. The bullet whizzes through the air, and before the Tekken Force soldiers can shoot her to pieces, she raises her gun to the side of her head and shouts as loud as she can, "But you will not be the one to make that decision!"

She looks to the sky and says her last goodbye. The second shot rings. I'm gaping, looking at the body of my friend on the floor, feeling her soul literally leave the area, like the other members that died before her. I never thought she'd do this. From all of the situations I conjured in my head, I never thought she would die by her own hand. She took her own life, because she wanted the power to do so. She didn't want _him _to make that decision – she didn't want _him _to have the choice, to have the opportunity or to have the say. She didn't want _him _to command her, and she didn't want to listen.

My eyes are watery, but I still narrow them and furrow my eyebrows. I've unknowingly stepped from my hiding spot in the alleyway and I'm glaring daggers at the tyrant, anger and hatred crawling through every cell in my body. My fists are so tightly clenched that my fingers are white, and I'm sure my knuckles are too, beneath my brown gloves. I want to charge at him, I want to scream things at him that both do and don't make sense – but if I do that, I'll die. It is not this day that I will die.

He lowers his gun, looking at the body on the ground. Shaking his head a little, he looks up at me, still wearing that smirk.

The paranoid monster, the survivor of his cursed bloodline…

Jin Kazama.


	8. I Have Lost The Will To Change

"Shot?"

"Yeah. Like a duck in duck hunting season," I say, waving my hand around.

"Such a lovely analogy, Hwoarang," Lei huffs gruffly, rubbing his temples in frustration. The crease in his forehead is deep.

"Shut it."

I throw the used cigarette on the ground and crush it under my boot, grinding it so the sparks that are still flickering with life eventually die. Lifting myself from my position against the wall, I look to you. You're staring at the ground with your hands neatly tucked up in your lap, unsure of what to say or think – and that's okay because, we all feel like that when this type of stuff happens for the first time.

I stroll over, hands in my pockets, and look down at you, wondering what I can do to make it easier. When I was first like this, Baek took me to the park for a while to relax and just started talking about life. And it really helped, but, I don't think it'd help in this situation. I nudge your foot with mine, and your head snaps up. I speak, trying to be sympathetic, but what comes out of my mouth isn't exactly that, "Hey now, come on, you. Shit happens. People die. This _is _a war. Just gotta pick ourselves back up and move along, you know?"

You look up at me. Your eyes are like an empty shell. You've lost something, like a will, "How can you be so heartless?"

"You tend to harden up once you've seen it a few times," I shrug, "Being in the army a few years back really helped that. Just a swift 'raise the gun, aim, fire, turn' type thing," I imitate my description, before stretching, "Splattered brains and stuff isn't exactly pretty but, its life in these times. You just seriously gotta pick yourself back up and move along. Do something that'll take your mind off of it. You're a nature girl, right? Wanna go walk around in a park or something?"

Lei hears my suggestion and immediately answers for you. His voice is edgy, it's lost that friendly tone it endorsed only moments ago when talking to me, "I don't want you two leaving this hideout. I'm sure the Tekken Force soldiers recognised _you _at least, Hwoarang, and I don't want you putting her in any danger. That red hair can be seen from miles away."

I shrug again and wave a hand, turning to leave, "Fine, fine."

Lei also turns to leave, going down the long corridor to where I assume the others are. He catches up with Miharu, whose steely stare seemingly sees right through him. I'm gonna go the other way to where my quarters are to get some sleep, because that's what I usually find is the best medicine in these situations; but I'm stopped when you call me again, your soft voice flowing through the area, "Hwoarang?"

"Yeah?"

"Although we can't go outside, I appreciate your suggestion. It shows you care."

I grin goofily and spin around on my heels, "Its okay. You're a…" What's the right English word… "…team mate, yeah? You've got my back, I've got yours?"

"What about 'friend'?" You query, walking towards me.

The grin intensifies, "That too."

"I guess we could do something else then. Maybe ask a few questions and learn about each other. I have one," you stand and moves so that you're alongside me now, "Why do you continue to fight the tyrant's eternal and malevolent reign when you know that you will all eventually fall? He has too much at his disposal – armies of men fighting blindly to preserve the lives of their friends and family, technology that is far beyond what we could've imagined… One man cannot save the world."

"One man destroyed it, though," I counter, "And he sits in his Gargoyle's Perch, dominating the apocalyptic wasteland."

To this, you say nothing, because you're well aware that I've raised a pretty damn good point. Furrowing your eyebrows, you look to me again, challenging me with a similar statement, "And a rebellion of seven – _six _men can't throw him off his throne. He'll sit there forever, the world in his hand, spinning continuously. You know this, but you still fight. Why do you fight alone? Why do you not get half of his forces with you, at least? It'll be fair, then."

"We tried," I say again, looking up, "And with our link to his forces dead, there's no way we can do that now."

"So you know that you will fail and fall," you remark, looking to your feet, "Why do you continue to fight fate? Why do you try to cast off the shackles your future? Who for? Why put yourself through so much suffering to die?"

"It's better to die on your feet than live on your knees… or something like that. We fight fate because we don't want to accept it, and because we know there's a chance we can make it better, you know?" I stretch again, imitating a 'throwing off' action, "Throw off those shackles that weigh us down and then go 'look at me, I can do whatever the fuck I want and you can't stop me!'" I pause and look to her, "And that's a pretty stupid question, askin' me who I fight for. Who do _you _fight for?"

You say nothing.

I reach out my hand and cup your cheek, though I'm unaware I'm doing it because I'm so caught up in talking, "What do you fight for? _Who _do you fight for? Yourself? That's a no brainer, everyone's gotta fight for themselves. What about your family? You got any? Do you fight for your Mum? Your friends? Your culture – tribe, maybe? Your land? I'm pretty sure it's all of that."

You nod and move your face from my hand, "Yes."

I'm standing in front of you now, "And what does all of that equate to?"

"Obviousness?" you state jokingly, smirking.

"Freedom!" I yell, grinning, "I fight for freedom. Just like you, Lei, Asuka, Miharu, Lili, and Miguel, and all of the others that have fallen for such a noble cause. I fight for freedom, and I'm not gonna stop until I get it."

"Freedom doesn't last forever," you murmur, looking down once again. You're really fragile, aren't you? You've had freedom taken from you before, but I can't help but wonder what enslaved you. What held you down, what took away your right to dance on the rolling, green hills? What broke you? Because, I'm already feeling a strange want – _desire, _to fix you. And I already know what you will say – 'I'm not broken'. If you're not broken, then what are you? Perfect? Imperfect?

"Then show me where forever dies," I say. It's my catchphrase, according to Miharu.

You look back up again, eyebrows furrowed. Your half-scowl breaks into a smile, and you reach up and pat my shoulder in a friendly manner, "You are a strange, strange man, Hwoarang." Your hand drifts up my neck, and your hand is now on the side of my face, like mine was earlier, "I find your attitude strange but infectiously endearing. Don't lose it."

"I won't," I say all too quickly.

"Good," you reply, letting go, "Because that keeps me going."

"It's easy to be like me, all optimistic and all, you know? So you just gotta turn that frown upside down and change."

"Yes, but change is hard, and… I have lost the will to change."

With that, you turn away and head down the corridor to where Asuka is. Turning away myself, I go to find Lei. I want to run over the next raid plans, that'll be happening in a few days time. Gotta make sure that everything's all spic and span, right? Don't need anything to screw up. It'd suck if it ended like the Zaibatsu's raid.

I shudder at the memory of my dead friend's face.

"Hey, Wulong," I call, waving him over after spotting him, "Get that super cop ass over here for a sec."

He rolls his eyes at my statement, and, coffee in hand, speaks, "What do you want?"

"Just wanna go over the plans again."

"Do you _not _listen?" he growls, rubbing his temples with one hand, "I've already told you."

"I like to double check."

"This is the third time you've asked me."

"Triple check, then."

And so Lei goes over the plans again. In a few days in the early morning, when the guards switch over, some of us are gonna go and blow up the Rochefort Oil Company. Now, this is Lili's Father's company, and we think that by blowing up allies of the Zaibatsu, its resources will plummet to such a point that the world can attack. Peel away the shell, you know? She's not happy about it, but her love for her Father has completely died once he refused to leave the Zaibatsu's side – not out of fear, but out of _friendship._

Lili's gonna walk in with all of us – _disguised, _of course, because the place is guarded by Tekken Force soldiers and we're probably gonna be easily identified – plant a couple of bombs here and there, leave and then _KABOOM!_ No more Rochefort Oil Company. One of the tyrant's biggest assets will become a pile of smoking rubble and debris. When we first started putting this together, I actually confronted Lili about how she felt, because she'd be losing her Father, her butler, pretty much everything she's ever owned. You know what she said? 'We'll be revered as heroes after we overthrow him, so I'll just get myself a new butler and twice as many things as I had before!'. Um…? Okay?

Miguel and Lei made the bombs. It was pretty cool to see Miguel make bombs and all to be honest because I had no idea he could. They're set to destruct when Lili presses the button, which she'll put on herself somewhere. I'm thinking she'll put it on the little tie thing on her neck, it'd make sense. No one's gonna touch her there, easy access, and so on and so forth.

My eyes drift behind Lei as he continues to go over details, and I do see Lili and Miguel together. Miguel says something that I can't quite hear, but it invokes laughter, and Lili smacks his arm, joy on her face. I've always had a funny feeling that those two were together, or at least had feelings for each other. I guess that's why he was so eager to get the bombs done as fast, well and efficiently as possible – this _is _her mission, it _is _her idea, and so on.

"Oh, that reminds me," Lei finishes the rest of his coffee and eyes it angrily, hoping that there was more, "How're you gonna disguise yourself? You need to act the part, remember that."

"We'll see."

* * *

Okay so, here's a really quick rundown of our 'disguises'.

Lili's normal. She's in the white and red dress, high white boots, gloves, and so on. But the rest of us? Oh man.

Miguel's wearing this big baseball cap and has stuffed as much of his hair as he can into it. Unfortunately its kinda boofing up, looks pretty funny. He's also got large, geeky black glasses on, is wearing a white shirt, black trench coat, brown sandals and brown shorts – I really wish he didn't wear those shorts because his grossly hairy legs are on display to the world. Shave or jeans, please. He looks strangely comfortable in all of that, though. But whatever.

Miharu's wearing a kitty hoodie. It's purple and she's propped the hood up, and the little ears are sticking up. The stiff tail moves from side to side as she walks. She's got really baggy blue jeans on as well, and white sneakers. Her head is down and her eyebrows are furrowed. All of the clothes are so unlike her, though, which is great disguise wise in my opinion, the jeans in particular. She probably should've given the pants to Miguel instead – I'd rather see her legs than his. She's also got all of the bombs in her Miyavi backpack.

Asuka's fully geared up as a geisha, and it looks pretty damn good. Her hair's all put up with a couple of Japanese knick knacks here and there, the whole outfit is black and white with a little bit of colour here and there. There's a lot of skin visible, an entire leg's worth actually. I guess that'll compensate for Miguel's horrid dress sense.

Lei's dressed in the gear he used to wear at the fourth tournament – the brown jacket and so on. He's tucked his ponytail up and is wearing a giant cowboy hat and keeps making some type of American, cowboy slurs that I don't really understand nor care about. He also keeps winking at me. I think he's trying to act out a _gay _cowboy, just for something… extraordinary.

You've decked on loads of makeup, with Miharu's help, of course. It doesn't suit your pretty face at all but it works for a disguise, because I hardly recognise you, especially with the rest of those clothes on. You've got this really short, leather miniskirt on, and it's pretty damn pleasing to my eye. Its _way _shorter than the denim jeans you've worn before. You have your usual brown boots on, brown gloves, and your hair isn't tied up, it's just out, flowing like the rivers you fondly speak of. You have a very small and revealing top on as well. It's dipping really low.

"Stop staring, please," you murmur as we enter the glass double doors to Lili's white, glassy home – her Father's headquarters.

"Can you blame me?" I quip.

I've got a maroon beanie on, and I've tucked all of my hair underneath it. There's not a spec of red seen. I've got a long-sleeved, white shirt on, and I've left the first button undone. I've also got white sneakers on and blue jeans. I used to know a kid who dressed like this, he was pretty smart and all, so when I had absolutely no inspiration whatsoever, I thought of people I once knew and picked their outfit. It's working decently, I guess.

Lili's butler runs up to her, a smile on his withering face, "Ah, Emilie, I'm glad you're here. And you've brought some friends, I see. Would you like me to clean up the living room so you can all have a chat and play your video games? I think your Father just bought you some new games and dolls. I put the dolls with the others in your room already."

She runs her fingers through her blonde hair and shakes her head, "No, its okay Sebastian…" She then leans in close and whispers something in his ear, something that I don't quite hear, but it definitely had the word 'bomb'. I'm assuming she told him about the plan. They are super close, after all, but I wonder if that was a good idea. Sebastian might break it to Mr Rochefort, and he might report us to the tyrant and have us executed.

To my surprise, there's a sombre expression on his face, "I cannot leave the house without permission, Lili… So I must die in the house as you set them off. But I've lived a long life, and if I die so you can all live a better one in the future, then so be it," he turns and starts walking, "Come on, let's place them. I think we should put the first one in the middle of this corridor underneath the rug."

And so we set to work, placing bombs here and there, underneath Sebastian's advice. As we do, I notice Lili becoming sadder and sadder. I guess she thought she'd be okay doing this, but now that it's actually _happening… _she's realising what this house and the people in it mean to her. It also shows her determination to get this done, though, as she wipes tears from her eyes, looking at the things she'd had all of her life. Miguel squeezes her shoulder lightly and places another bomb on the wall.

As we're lead up the stairs to Lili's room, Sebastian slows and watches up set up two bombs for the extremely large room. I'm standing at the door with him, and he leans sideways and towards me, hands behind his back, "Your name, please."

"Hwoarang."

He nods, "So you are the one that the tyrant wishes to murder with his own two hands… The boy that fought him to a draw many years ago, and the man who defeated him in the fifth tournament with nothing but the strength radiating through your body."

I'm humbled by his description, but I do nothing but nod.

"If anybody can kill him, it's you. You are still young, you still have life and determination and skill running through your veins. You are not weak, you are strong, and you will come out on top. Please, you cannot fail your goal… your _destiny_. Destroy the man who broke us all. The man who took away our wills, who took away everything we've ever known and turned it into his twisted vision of perfection."

He's putting all of his hope into me. Unsure of what to say, I merely nod again and smile a little, before following everybody out of the room, going to Mr Rochefort's office to plant the final two bombs. Looking up ahead, I see that Lili's starting to hyperventilate a little, she's clearly terrified and really having second thoughts. I'd comfort her but I dunno what I could say to make it better.

We set them up, and you look amongst us all, "That's the last one?"

Miharu nods, checking her bag. She closes it, "That's it. All that's left is to detonate."

Miguel speaks, both hands on Lili's shoulders, "Are you ready to do this?"

She looks into his eyes and nods again, looking to her feet and breathing in a sniffle, "Yes…" She turns to Sebastian and begs, "Please, come with us. Who cares if my Father will not let you out, this is a matter of life and death. For once, just walk away with your head held high."

Sebastian shakes his head, "He will suspect something. It is best that I stay here. Good luck to you all."

We leave, giving a brief wave to Lili's Father who tells us to come again sometime, and go through the way we came. We hear something behind us and start to speed up. I look over my shoulder, seeing as I'm bringing up the rear, and notice that the Tekken Force soldiers that are present have detected one of the bombs. They've slammed Sebastian against the wall, a gun is to his head and they're demanding to know about the bombs. Lili's Father is also there, shaking his head in disgust and anger.

I turn away and continue to walk, outside now. Lili, please don't turn around.

But she does, and when she sees the sight, she stops and bolts towards them, shaking their head, repeatedly yelling 'no no no no no no'. Miguel runs after her, shouting at her to come back. The five of us turn our heads and see the two of them running, as well as some of the Tekken Force soldiers swiftly turning their guns and aiming at them. The action doesn't deter either of them, though, and they continue to run. Bullets begin to rain, some hitting their bodies, others not.

I hear a loud gunshot and a louder scream.

"Run!" the man from Hong Kong hisses.

And so we do. Lei's up front, then Asuka, then Miharu, then you, and then myself. We run all the way up the hill, past the beautiful arrangements of trees and flowers, until we're at the top. The black van that was a gift from Lili to our most recently deceased member stands there, and the girls and Wulong all hop in. They shout at me to get in, but I'm too absorbed in the scene going on behind the glass below.

Lili's shouted something again and shoved the Tekken Force soldiers away from Sebastian's fallen body. Miguel's quivering with rage. Mr Rochefort's doing nothing. The Monaco girl tackles the soldier who shot her butler and moves to take his gun off of him and shoot her himself. I see his hand reach up to get to her throat, grabbing the red decoration to do so –

And then –

_BOOM!_

Fire engulfs the home, the explosion rattles my ears, and I quickly dash into the car again and look at the scene as an angry but focused Lei drives us away. Asuka is up front and sitting next to him, shaking her head, stating that she should've done something to keep the dead pair from running out to Sebastian. Miharu is sitting in the back left seat, and she is silent. She always is, she's not the bubbly, optimistic person she used to be. Her eyes are closed too, she's trying to keep herself calm.

In the middle, there's you. I hear you sobbing, and I immediately look to you when the others ignored you. Furrowing my eyebrows, I speak quietly, nudging you a little with my leg, "Hey? Are you…?"

You shake your head, answering the question I never got to finish. Your eyes are sad, but your voice is angry, "She was just _twenty, _Hwoarang… Too young to die… And he… When will this end? How many more of us have to die before the tyrant, that…" she spits it out, "_monster _is stopped?" you look to me, "This injustice has _got _to stop! The world has got to change… Everybody must rise and rebel, not just a measly five people!"

I say nothing because I'm trying to form a sentence in my head that'll illustrate my point. It's hard because English isn't my first language. Unsure of what else to do, I look to the hand that's planted between us, and put my own above it, clutching it lightly and now looking at you. After a few more seconds of silent observation, you look back at me as I speak, "Change is imminent. Change is eternal. Change is the only constant in life… and one day, he will remember that."


	9. And I'm Not Proud, Cold Blooded, Fake

Author's Note: One chapter left~ :3

* * *

We're almost ready.

Here's the brief rundown before we go in. Lars has this disc with this massive computer virus in it. It's been checked numerous times by Lars, Lei and you yourself. He's gonna put it in the system and bring down the Zaibatsu's computers, ruining _all _of its research, destroying _all _of the files, breaking _all _communication to the other parts of the world, and so on and so forth. If we're lucky, we can offload the virus into the other networks worldwide. With the Zaibatsu down, the other parts of the Empire won't know what to do, and hopefully they can all rebel, because _no one _supports his cause. _No one._

To back this up, Lars has his best soldiers from his main unit stationed at the major world parts – New York, Los Angeles, Beijing, Moscow, Sydney, London, Pyongyang, New Delhi, Rome, and so on and so forth. He had this done ages ago, because he knew this day would come. Once the Zaibatsu's been run down, he's gonna order them to take control by sending a mass text from his work phone. This is risky and all, and Lars knows this, but he's reasoned with us that if the virus brings down the Zaibatsu's network, then there's no way that the tyrant can track the text from this station. Doesn't stop him from going to other stations… But anyway, these soldiers have been there for so long already, they know them, trust them and _believe _in them. Belief is important. If the workers believe these soldiers, who believe in Lars like we do, then it'll be fine.

I know it sounds a little confusing because I keep switching terms. Here's the simple explanation. All of the tyrant's bases are collectively called the Empire. The _main _base in Japan, the one we're going to attack, is called the Zaibatsu. It _was _called the Mishima Zaibatsu, but the tyrant himself dropped the first word in vehement hate for that part of his family. After the end of the King Of Iron Fist Tournament Six, he slaughtered his Father and Grandfather mercilessly. Absolutely _butchered _them. I'd go into details, but I don't wanna make myself sick before such an important mission.

Miguel, Asuka, you and myself have been assigned as 'fake prisoners'. So to say, Lars is gonna lead us in, chained up and all, and he'll take us to the computer labs. Miguel, Asuka and my mission is basically just to guard the door and prevent anyone from entering, once we've taken out who is inside, that is. You're going to set up the network so that the Zaibatsu is interacting with all the other major stations at the same time. After that, all that's gotta be done is the disc insertion, and that's it. Lights out, power down, and out we go… after we break some of the other materials. While us five are here, Lei, Lili and Miharu are just going to keep the hideout safe.

Lars quickly looks to the four of us. With a small smile, he says, "We all good to go?"

Asuka raises her arms, "Yeah, we're all chained. Make sure you don't lose the key!"

"Sure. Now everyone, try and look angry and defeated. I want to see good actors and actresses," he surveys us for a moment, watching Asuka scowl – and _mean it;_ and shakes his head, chuckling a little. Grabbing onto the chain that holds the four of us, he pulls hard and leaps from the alleyway, charging down to the Zaibatsu's entrance. I pretend to fight against the chains, hissing under my breath, and I faintly hear Lars go 'good, good' directly in front of me.

The sun burns my skin, but it's oddly comforting. Lars' booming voice suddenly sounds, shouting at us at how we were traitors and how we cannot fight the Empire. He shouts at us, a key phrase being 'you think you could overthrow us, you think you could do better for yourselves!'; and I inwardly chuckle for a brief moment at not only the irony of the statement, but at how the other Tekken Force soldiers around him are just clapping proudly and going 'wowww'. I even hear a guy comment on how Lars finally 'caught that punk Hwoarang, he should deliver him to Jin himself for execution!'.

Pfft. Wanker.

Two soldiers up ahead open the door and salute Lars, the one on the left speaking, "Would you like us to take them to the torture chambers?"

"No," he says, chuckling darkly, "I'll do it myself. I'm detouring to the laboratory first to get some acid. I feel like burning their eyes, maybe their skin too."

I mock-cringe and shout out, feigning anger, "I hope you fucking spill it on yourself!"

In immediate response, Lars spins around, eyes narrowed, and he backhands me. Real anger then sets in my face, and I almost shout out 'why the hell did you do that', but I have to remind myself that I'm acting and so is he. The attack stings, and I can feel a bit of blood on my cheek because of the force of the hit, let alone the stuff on the back of his glove. Hissing, I try to pull away again, only to be harshly pulled forward, and I pretend to fall, only to be yanked back up again by the chains.

Behind me, I feel Asuka 'try' to pull away as well, but to no avail. I hear you mock-whimper, and I hear Miguel mock-growl. One of the three mutters something that I can't quite hear, but Lars definitely notices, and to maintain his angry, 'loyal' pretence, he tugs again and charges down the Zaibatsu's long corridors, which I'm surprised to find aren't actually lined by as many guards as I thought. To please those who _are _there, though, he pulls and continues to shout at us.

After a lot of weaving and bobbing through, we come to the laboratory. He tells the soldiers that are standing on either side of the door to leave, and they do. He looks back to me, then to the others and smiles slightly, opening the door and looking ahead of himself again. He enters, pulling us along with him, and looks to the two doctors in the room.

"Abel," he grits, nodding slightly at the bald man with tinted, red glasses. Doctor Abel nods back, a sinister smirk on his withered face. His voice noticeably changes when he turns and greets the other doctor who still has some hair, and his nod is deeper than it was beforehand. He clearly favours this man, "Boskonovitch."

Doctor Boskonovitch smiles at Lars, before leaning to the side and observing me and the others. He clicks his tongue, eyebrows high and clearly surprised, "And what have you brought us here? More people to harm?" he pauses, and then adds what I think rival might be thinking. He still doesn't understand why the tyrant makes them work together, after all they loathe each other. Abel's already tried poisoning Boskonovitch, according to Lars, "Experiments, perhaps?"

Lars chuckles. He turns and looks at me, then the others and at the two soldiers in the room. He holds out the chains to Boskonovitch, who takes them into his frail hands, and walks towards the door. I continue to pretend to struggle, albeit not very hard, because I know what's coming next. Lars locks the door and starts muttering something I don't understand, before swiftly spinning on his heel and slamming his fist squarely into the neck of the soldier on his left. The force of the attack has the soldier's head twist and a sickening crack is heard. He falls dead.

Before the other soldier can react, he's all over the wall as well, Lars' heel digging into his neck. To make sure he's dead, the Swede grabs the man's falling body and snaps his neck, and eventually he falls. Abel's panicking, he doesn't know what's going on, and I watch as he moves to get to the nearby white phone. Lars' handgun is already out and pointing at him, and as he approaches the scientist, he speaks, "Don't move."

I'm surprised to see that Boskonovitch isn't panicking. I look to Lars again, seeing that he's grabbed the key from his pocket and has hurled it to this Doctor. It's then that I understand everything – Boskonovitch was in on the act for the whole time. He knew about the raid, he knew Lars was gonna come here with 'prisoners' and so on and so forth. I smile slightly and stand taller once the cuffs are off my hands, and I rub my wrists subconsciously, watching as the Tekken Force Officer presses the barrel of the gun to Abel's forehead.

I briefly look at you, and you look back. With a small nod, you run over to the nearest computer and start to fish around for that disc. Boskonovitch is at your side, aiding you in logging into the computer, where to go and so on. I'm not gonna go into those technical terms, I suck with computers. My gaze moves to Asuka and Miguel. They're moving the two bodies of the soldiers far into the corners, and once they're there, in unison with a mighty swing, they shatter test tubes and beakers, the glass shattering like an exploded firecracker.

I slink around the large table that the two Doctors had been working at beforehand, looking at their latest work. Looks like its some type of gun. As I move around, I watch Abel. His hands are up and he's sweating and terrified, but there's a smirk on his face that I find unnerving. It's… Its one of those smirks where you've got no idea what he's gonna do, and deep in the pit of my stomach is a worry for Lars' safety.

Lars looks at me for a moment before looking back at Abel. He chuckles once, "This is it, old man."

I'm behind Abel now. It's been our plan since the start for a silent murder. Screw the gun's silencer, if it was on his gun while he was going through the area, it would've looked suspicious in the eyes of the other soldiers. You gave me one of your knives, which you said you made, before we were chained up, and you said that it'd be of better use in my hands than in yours. You said that you want to help stop the war, without using your fists or a gun or a knife or any other weapon. And so, you gave it to me. I'm the one that's gonna kill Abel, not Lars. I'm gonna slice his throat open and watch as the blood cascades down his chest, staining his skin and his clothes a bloody red.

Abel still doesn't know I'm behind him. I see his head turn, watching Miguel put his fist through a large, glass container, and the watery contents flood the area, pulsing forth like a wave. I look to Asuka, who is ripping wires out of a wall. I hear you curse, because you're having difficulty putting in that disc in the slot, because you're _panicking. _Slow down, sweetheart. Panicking's not gonna get you anywhere. It's not gonna get _any _of us anywhere.

I hear Lars' breath freeze. I immediately look back to him, along with all of the others, and we all see that another handgun – Abel's – is pressed to his jaw. He must've whipped it out with lightning fast reflexes. I can't see his face, but I'm pretty damn sure he's smirking. Drawing the knife from my pocket, I slowly inch my hand around, and I hear the man between us speak to the man before him, "Go on then, shoot. If I die, I'm taking you with me, Alexandersson."

His other hand is at the phone. From the corner of my eye, I glance to see that there's an 'emergency' button in the cradle. His thumb is hovering above it. He wanted to get to the phone so he could press this button and get more soldiers down here, alert them that some serious shit's about to go down, you know? I wanna move it out of the way so he doesn't get it, but I choose not to, because it could jeopardise the current operation.

But it could also save it.

Lars speaks, his proud voice stern and unafraid, even in the face of what could be his death. His voice always sounds so damn _proud, _and I told him about this once and asked if that's how he felt, or if that was a cold-blooded, fake mask he put on his face to deter the enemy. He said 'no' to both, "Move your finger away from the button." His eyes narrow, and he flicks his head to the side for a brief moment, indicating what he wants Abel to do, "Move your finger away from the button and put down the gun. Doing these two things will ensure your life."

"And what 'life' is torture in the hands of the Resistance?"

In an instant, everything changes. Sound invades my ears, loud and screeching, and echoing throughout the laboratory. Two distinct sounds, intertwining with one another. One is screeching continuously, just _roaring, _the other was brief and quick; and it reverberates, bouncing between the walls, floor and ceiling. In a matter of one second, Abel did two things in perfect unison and fucked up our operation.

He pressed the button and shot Lars at the same time.

Moving on my fallback position, I slice is throat open and watch as he falls beside the dead Lars. I can already hear the pitter-pattering footsteps of other soldiers, running to the source of the deafening noise. I put the knife in my pocket and pick up both guns. One's warm and smells of gunpowder. I can see smoke still ascending from the end of it.

I throw the unfired one to the nearby Asuka, who catches it with ease in her small hands and nods at me briefly. She moves to my side, standing behind the table, and aims the gun at the door that'll be open soon enough. I look to Miguel, who is already heading for the window on the opposite side of the room. You've just put the disc into the computer, and you're still waiting for it to open so you can activate the virus. I gather my voice and shout above the wailing sirens, "There's no time, leave it and get out. We've already lost Lars, we can't lose you too."

You heed my words and leap from the swivel chair. I hear a crash behind me, and I realise that Miguel's smashed through one of the windows and is climbing out of it. You follow, and I assume you're careful not to cut yourself on the glass. As all of that happens, Boskonovitch moves to the computer to take over what you started, and he's opened the file and is putting in the passwords and shit needed to activate the virus. There's about fourteen of them, and I don't think he's gonna have enough time.

Asuka places her free hand over the one holding the handgun, tightening her grip. I aim at the door also and watch as it fizzles open, fog rising and then parting like the red sea for Moses. I see two Tekken Force soldiers standing there, guns raised, and I'm sure there's more behind them. Asuka and I shoot immediately, watching as our bullets soared through the air and pierced the helmets of the two. After a few more shots, I push Asuka by the shoulder towards the window, and I say to the only other living man in the room, "I'm sorry, Doc."

He says nothing and continues to work away, because he knows he's going to die soon as well because of his treason. I briefly look to the fallen Lars, whose eyes are staring up at the ceiling, dead and blank. As the two of us turn to go through the window, I put my fist on my chest like he did, and drag it to my right, my fingers uncurling, spreading and imitating a clawed hand. He fought like a lion, always and until the end. I have no doubt in my mind that he'll be remembered, whether we bring down the tyrant or not.

"Goodnight, Lars Alexandersson."

With Asuka in front of me, I escape through the window and hear multiple shots go off underneath the blanket of the siren, and then the body of Doctor Boskonovitch hit the ground too, like his enemy and his ally only minutes beforehand. I don't hear a second alarm go off or a computer shutdown and crash, and its then that I realise exactly how farfetched our hopes were – _were, _because they were shattered tonight…

…I know it's only going to get worse.


	10. I Will Shut The World Away…

Author's Note: This is it. The last chapter. Thank you to those who stuck around for the ride :3

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I stand on the corner of the main street, shaking my head with disgust. The shops are closed down, and there is nobody on the streets. The windows are boarded up, and there is not a car in sight. I am alone here, and justly so. The trees are dying, no longer retaining their shining brilliance. This street, this city is now dead, a shadow of its former self… and it is here that I now live.

I look around for a moment longer, before crossing the street casually, my hands are stuffed deep in my pockets. My used cigarette is long left behind, in a puddle just before the traffic lights. With my head down slightly, I continue to walk, shooting straight towards the shop before me. Its door is slightly ajar, and it conceals my destination. It hides the resistance, the people who fight against this apocalyptic world, and I am a warrior amongst them.

Nobody wants to live like this. Nobody wants to live_ in _this.

I pull a hand out of my pocket, bounding onto this concrete sidewalk, and push the door open, ignoring the annoying whine of the hinges. Looking behind me one last time to make sure I'm not followed, I shut the world away, forcing the door closed entirely, and survey the desolate area. There's a table propped up against the wall, and one of its legs is broken. The windows are boarded up, the curtains are torn and dusty, the kitchen sink has a thick layer of grime on it, and the stove has dishes piled upon it. But I'm not interested in any of that.

I see the red rug in the middle of the timber floor. Smirking slightly, I push it off and see the trapdoor I was searching for, and swiftly, I put my fingers around the metal ring, pulling. The trapdoor opens, easing upwards. I see the small foothold, and cautiously insert one foot, and then another into the one below it. Fumbling around for the rug I moved aside before hand, I pull it over the top of the trapdoor, closing it thereafter. The rug hides this passage again.

Slowly, I continue my descent. The passage is dark, but I make my way down anyway. I've been negligent the past few times, and missed the footings, thus falling down entirely; but I make sure to pay attention this time. Soon enough, I'm at the bottom. The ground is solid beneath my feet, as I walk down the tunnel behind me, watching as the pale, yellow lights become brighter the more I go down. The air is… cloggy down here. I mean, it was horrid up on the surface, entangled with thick smoke, but down here, it's only a little better.

Soon enough, I'm met with one of the people I wanted to see. He smiles at me, leaning against the archway to one of the rooms, and stops fiddling about with his black ponytail. I smile a little too, and he waves at me casually, "Hwoarang."

"Lei," I say, bowing my head slightly as a sign of respect. The man started this small resistance, after all.

I'm in this group, with him and a few others. He's the leader, and he's dubbed me his 'other leader', and we work out these operations together. He wants me to take charge when he's gone. We don't have a long, super cool name or anything because there's no use for one. If anything, it'd be harmful. We just call ourselves the 'Resistance', literally just that. Such a creative title, no? Anyway. We're committed to bringing down the tyrant who has brought about all of this ghastly destruction upon the world – not just Tokyo, which is where I am; nor Japan, _the whole world. _He's got the whole world dancing for him at the ends of his fingers, and he can either pull the world towards him, or push it over the edge.

We want to fall, so we'll be free. Not to our deaths, but to our redemption. Because we can start again, then. We can build a new and better Earth, free of his tyranny. If he pulls the world towards him, then we'll all become like him, and we don't want that. The majority of the human race obeys his every command, fearful that if they don't, they will kill him. And I don't blame them, but I was raised by a good man who taught me to fight for what I believe in, and fight I shall.

I wince slightly at the memory. I had just returned from the site of the man's death. It was a painful experience.

"Do you know what happened?" he asks, looking to the floor. He was inquiring about my search.

"Mm… he was shot to death, about twenty minutes away from here. They left him by the side of the road. Didn't find anything on him that could help us fight against the Empire though. It was a death that shouldn't have happened…"

He nods a little, "Baek was an honourable man."

"Yeah."

"Just don't shut the world away this time, alright?" he stands, moving towards me, and pats me on the shoulder, "Baek wouldn't want that. When you first came here, you were so hesitant and unsure. You shut us all off, even him at one stage, but once you realised exactly what we were doing here and all, you came around. Stay with us, we'll look after you. You may be twenty-five, but you're still like a kid to me, even if you are one of the oldest."

I nod again, accepting his comfort, and pass him, seeing our stash of food. I move towards it, eager to pluck something from the bag, and satisfy my hunger. This house above us, it once belonged to one of our members' fathers – she _insists _that it's her house, but Asuka's what, twenty-one? Too young to be owning a house, in my opinion. Anyway, he had a secret basement, and along with Lei Wulong, he started The Resistance, using the basement as our base. He was soon killed for attempting to assassinate our target _far _too early. Lei's been looking after us all since then.

Marshall and Forrest Law joined too, in the early days. They were killed. Ling Xiaoyu joined as well, around the same time, and she was driven to insanity, eventually killing herself. That kid thoroughly believed that she could _save _him. The only way to 'save' him is to _kill _him, and she just… refused to accept that, you know? Poor girl. Her friend, Miharu, joined with her, and found her in the house, hanging from the ceiling. Was really disturbing. Miharu is still with us, but she's changed so much. She used to be so headstrong and confident. Now she's silent and wants to be with her Mother, Father and brother. Sadly, she doesn't know where they are.

Miharu's only one of seven. Me, Lei and Asuka are another three. So this leaves… Miguel, Lili and Lars. Miguel joined The Resistance as soon as he heard about it in the underground, swearing revenge for his sister's sake. She was going to get married, and on her wedding day a few years back, she was killed by the tyrant's air strikes. He's thirsted for blood since. I don't really talk to him much. I mean, we have a common goal but otherwise, he just bugs me. I'm usually hanging around with Lei, Asuka and Miharu. Sometimes Lars too, but our friendship is more on a formal, respecting basis.

Lili's this… prissy blonde, all the way from Monaco. She's the youngest of us, at a mere twenty, and she packs a hell of a punch – _I _should know. She wants to get rid of the tyrant to help her Father rebuild his oil company, who is – or _was – _an ally of the Empire. I say good luck to her but, another ally is another ally. And last but not least, Lars. He's our current strongest link. See, he actually _works _for the Empire, as the leader of his forces. Pretty soon, we're gonna conduct a mission, hopefully bringing it down from the inside via Lars. He's a pretty cool guy, really nice and level-headed. He had a robotic friend called Alisa, whom he tried to have repaired after the sixth tournament. Sadly, the tyrant killed the only two guys who could have fixed her. He's been a silent mess ever since.

There were others too, but I didn't know their names. They died in the most recent attack, but I couldn't find their bodies. I only found Baek, who had been running from the area. There was another guy, he was about my age, just a bit younger. He had dark blue hair and was also Korean, but he hated fighting. I asked him once why he was fighting. He said because he couldn't stand seeing everyone this way. He was a sweet kid, it's a shame he died. He was too trusting. Until proven the enemy, _everyone _was his friend; and that was his downfall. He joined with another girl, she had fucking_ gorgeous _green eyes, I swear to God. Very, very quiet girl.

There was another person who looked like her, with blue eyes though, and a totally different accent. Was just coincidence that they looked the same. Where as she had green eyes and had an unidentifiable accent with her English, this one was undoubtedly west-coast American, and was rebelling against the world for her sick sister's death. The hospital was bombed, or so she said. She was with a male friend, who had black hair and looked Korean too, but I wasn't so sure. He had a wicked scar though. There were more, heaps more, but they were the most recent who died, which is a shame. But they died doing the right thing, and they have my respect for that.

"There's nothing much there," Asuka says, disturbing me from my thoughts. She walks past Lei.

I grab a red apple, which is the only appetizing thing there, "Yeah, I know."

"I'm sorry about Baek."

"It's not your fault, so don't apologise."

She nods, placing a small hand on my right shoulder, and rests her head on my left one in a comforting manner. I shrug her off, but tell her that I appreciate her support, before wandering over to the wooden chair next to the foot pile. It's backwards, I note as I sit, but I don't necessarily care. Lazily placing my arms over the back of it, I watch as Asuka turns her attention back to Lei, speaking, "We're all ready for tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," he answers, "Lars is just sleeping at the moment. Best not to wake him. He already knows about our new asset."

"New asset?" I pipe up, mouth full of food, "You mean like, we've got a new type of gun or something?"

"Not quite," Lei says. He looks to his right, where more people are coming. I see Lili and Miguel entering together (as always), and I see Miharu trailing behind them, her head down and her hair forward. After they're all in the room, our leader clears his throat again, "There's a new member of The Resistance, guys. She's twenty-four, and comes from America. She hates the tyrant as much as we do, and will stop at nothing to bring him down. Don't let her sweet nature fool you."

I bite my apple, eyebrows flying up as you enter the room. You're wearing a jean skirt that comes to the middle of your thighs, and a plain, white tank top that comes just above your belly button. Your hair is plaited, falling down to your sides, and you have small, light brown gloves on. And you look damn good, but there's something about your face that disturbs me. You're sad, you're upset. But you're resilient, because you want to keep going through this terrible time. What has hurt you so?

I'm too lost in my thoughts. I don't even catch your name, even though I've met you before – _we all _have, in the old tournaments - but you bow to us all and say that you are glad you found us. We all bow back, or wave lazily in my case, and return to whatever the hell we were doing before hand – eating, for me. My eyes are still locked onto you, as I take another bite of the apple. You look at me for a moment, that lazy, blank look on your face, before turning away, refocussing your attention onto Lei, who is briefing you of our current situation, and telling you about tomorrow's attack.

He soon leaves, saying that he needed to use the bathroom, leaving the two of us alone in the area. You timidly stalk towards the food pile, ignoring my piercing gaze, and go pilfering through it, hoping to find something good to eat. I speak, despite myself, "Nothing decent in there, sweetheart. Best thing in there was this apple."

"And you had to eat it for yourself, of course," you reply absently.

I hold out the half-eaten apple with a lopsided grin, "You can have the rest if you want."

"I don't even know where that mouth has been," you snit.

"Hasn't been around a vagina in ages, if that's what you were wondering," I answer, amused.

You sit up straighter, eyebrows furrowed, one hand on your hip, the other hand holding a small amount of food, "I don't need to know that."

"Looks like you could use some nuts, if you know what I mean," I jest, flicking my head towards the food in your hand, "_They're_ not a good enough substitute."

You look to your hand for a moment, and the pieces click. Your cheeks burn, and you clench your hand around the food you have, but I can see amusement glitter in your eyes, "You filthy, filthy pervert. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"You love it," I take another bite out of the apple. While munching on the piece in my mouth, you turn back to the food pile, rummaging about for anything else aside from nuts and seeds that interest you. Bored and guilty, I throw the red apple in my hand at you, and with lightning reflexes and surprise, you catch it, looking at it in your hand. You look at me as I sit up and wander towards you, "I was serious when I said you could have it."

You look at it for a moment, before wincing and taking a bite out of it yourself. Nodding appreciatively, you put half of the nuts back into the bag, and look to me, swallowing the piece of food in your mouth before speaking, "We've met in the tournament, numerous times. In the Third Tournament, you had a purple shirt on. In the Fourth, you had run out on the army, and had this stupidly short hair –"

"Don't remind me, woman," I snide, palming my forehead.

"- And in the Fifth and Sixth, you look pretty much the same as you do now. But I must ask, seeing as we're going to be working side by side, what is your name?" You furrow your eyebrows, looking down to the ground and at our shoes, afraid to meet my gaze, shutting me and the rest of the world out from you. I can sense your pain, its emitting so strongly, but I wonder if you know that the world can feel your anger and your hate.

"Hwoarang," I say, "Like, _Hwa-rang._"

You smirk, "I see. Nice to meet you, _Hwa-rang._"

I reach out a hand and ruffle your hair teasingly, "Nice to meet you too. Your name is?"

"Julia," you say, grabbing my wrist, taking my hand away from your head – but I realise that you don't let go, "Like, _Ju-lee-a._"

I curl my fingers around yours, igniting more colour in your face when you realise what we're doing. Your name rolls off my tongue with ease, even as you slip your fingers away from mine, but I can see in your metal-coloured eyes that you liked the touch. I smirk like you did, placing my hand back in my pocket, "Julia."

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**END**

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Author's Note: THERE IS YOUR MYSTERY LADY. IT WAS JULIA. ALSO, WHYYY DID I ACTUALLY GET THIS ONE DONE BEFORE "NO TOMORROW" THAT I WROTE AND BEGAN FIRST? –face wall- Because it was too much fun, that's why :3 I just really wanted to thank you guys for reading (and to those who have reviewed, too!), it means a lot to me. A lot of you guys who have followed me since the start have said that this is one of my stronger works, and I'm inclined to agree – honestly I feel that this is the best piece of work I've produced so far, by far in a way.

It's very short compared to what I usually write, but as some of you have already guessed, this entire story was spawned when Breaking Benjamin released their tenth single entitled "I Will Not Bow" (from their fourth album entitled "Dear Agony"). Seriously, I was so stoked/hyped for this song, and when I heard it I was like "…well fuck". The bare bones of this fic came into place merely because of the LYRICS of this song (and if you notice the chapter titles when you jump between them, it's the chorus' lyrics :3). I listened to it one more time, and I had every single detail fleshed out. So basically, this whole fic was thought up and expanded upon in about seven minutes. Which is ridiculous imho, but I thought it was pretty cool.

Only one major thank you this time, but it's for a damn good reason, and I'm not being unthankful to anybody, but I really want to say this (again). I want to again thank **TeaC0sy** for sticking by me like glue and freaking the fuck out whenever this fic got updated. It means a lot to me that after all of this time (Nov 2007 – now. Kid, I've known you for over three years now, sheeeeet XD), watched my writing progress and my voice and so on and so forth. I dunno where the hell I'd be without you here, but I certainly know that I would not be trying this hard. I miss you like crazy sis, you need to lmap Bakky og stuf onto my MSNM when you can.

You guys, you know that her fic _"Jayu" _needs a lot more love, right? So go love it, because, we were thinking about collaborating on it for ages, but she really really reallyreallyreally wanted to do it, so I just told her to go do it (plz finish it soon? D:!), so then this was born as a consequence (because I liked the mood/idea a lot myself). Go give it love like you love me. And, also lastly, and she'll likely smack me across the face with Micky Yoochun for saying this, but…

**TeaC0sy, this was for you. To you, I dedicate "I Will Now Bow". For all of your love.**

And I can't forget the rest of you guys, so, many thanks to: AmberAnodyne (AMBABABA, DON'T FEEL LEFT OUT OF THE BIG FAT THANK YOU'S, YOU'LL GET MORE DW, I miss you and less than threeeeee and thank you!), Thunderxtw (your ass, on messenger, now pl0x, miss you!), HOIME G (thanks!), Dollsi, SeungSeiRan, Temptation Of Lacuna, lazyguy90 (I love your penname XD), Darial Kuznetsova, Nadia Blackrose, P.O.J.A. (thanks, you!), Sage Pagan (I AM NOT WORTHY HEART HEART HEART), AngelEyes87, hplo, Hunty, Another-of-Me, spongecake 2 (hey ho, thanks for the reviews. You cannot has your greetings back!), storytime, hwoarangfan2011, I Am A Legion, Anonymous, reviewer without a name, Ghostkerchief, Erinnyes (all hail me? Lol. I'm not a God, but your comment was adorable XD), Toxic City (cheers, dude!), and last but not least, Dechuu (thanks bb!).

Now for those of you who were as confused as all hell about this story and have not worked it out yet, all I can say is that I strongly, _strongly _encourage you to read it again, particularly now that it is complete as it will make a heap more sense…_ Read the story _**_backwards_.** Because that is the real story there. Anyway, thanks again, guys!


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